Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Libya and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Bobby Hutcherson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
ABC,
the Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
Harmonia,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Parry Music,
Minutemen,
MC5,
Bobby Womack,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cymande,
Scan 7,
Derrick May,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Letta Mbulu,
The Seeds,
Pierre Henry,
Second Layer,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
Max Romeo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Underground Resistance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sound Behaviour,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hashim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boredoms,
The Human League,
The Litter,
Stetsasonic,
The Fire Engines,
Danielle Patucci,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül II,
Lindisfarne,
The Move,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
T.S.O.L.,
Ohio Players,
The Sound,
Loose Ends,
Make Up,
Bobby Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
The Invisible,
Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slits,
John Coltrane,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.