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 Azerbaijan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Frankie Knuckles to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Sugar Minott,
Lebanon Hanover,
Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Girls At Our Best!,
Josef K,
Metal Thangz,
Scan 7,
Kayak,
Minnie Riperton,
Harmonia,
Todd Rundgren,
Marc Almond,
Mary Jane Girls,
Colin Newman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eden Ahbez,
Panda Bear,
The Selecter,
Deadbeat,
Danielle Patucci,
Kaleidoscope,
Suburban Knight,
Sun Ra,
Massinfluence,
Monolake,
Black Flag,
Jacob Miller,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tim Buckley,
Marmalade,
Andrew Hill,
Schoolly D,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Toasters,
The Happenings,
Jeff Mills,
Eric Copeland,
ABC,
Dave Gahan,
D'Angelo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
Sixth Finger,
The Star Department,
Mr. Review,
Little Man,
kango's stein massive,
Alton Ellis,
Parry Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.