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 Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Faraquet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
John Foxx,
Arthur Verocai,
Pylon,
Joe Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quando Quango,
U.S. Maple,
Sun City Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Saccharine Trust,
Delta 5,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Pretty Things,
Swans,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
China Crisis,
Niagra,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Near,
The Red Krayola,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yusef Lateef,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
Camberwell Now,
Janne Schatter,
Gichy Dan,
Essential Logic,
Brand Nubian,
Wasted Youth,
The Stooges,
Deepchord,
Drive Like Jehu,
Glambeats Corp.,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
Steve Hackett,
Andrew Hill,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
Adolescents,
Joensuu 1685,
Zapp,
Terry Callier,
Anakelly,
Scion,
Matthew Halsall,
Rapeman,
The Invisible,
Freddie Wadling,
Bootsy Collins,
Masters at Work,
Ultra Naté,
Blossom Toes,
Duran Duran,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
R.M.O.,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.