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 Croatia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chris & Cosey to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Brothers Johnson,
Agitation Free,
Soulsonic Force,
Danielle Patucci,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Busters,
Swell Maps,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suicide,
The Mummies,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
Skriet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
La Düsseldorf,
Outsiders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Slits,
DNA,
The Velvet Underground,
Pulsallama,
Joe Finger,
Ultravox,
Ohio Players,
Sex Pistols,
Pere Ubu,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gun Club,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Offenders,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marvin Gaye,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Robert Görl,
Ossler,
Slick Rick,
John Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
T.S.O.L.,
Popol Vuh,
Graham Central Station,
L. Decosne,
Barbara Tucker,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra,
Motorama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Simply Red,
Erykah Badu,
Arcadia,
Amon Düül,
Sällskapet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.