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 Serbia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Grass Roots to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
The Golliwogs,
Pussy Galore,
The Stooges,
The Standells,
Ponytail,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Piero Umiliani,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
Adolescents,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Q and Not U,
Das Ding,
The Skatalites,
10cc,
Thee Headcoats,
Eve St. Jones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Iggy Pop,
Brothers Johnson,
Talk Talk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
EPMD,
David Bowie,
Suburban Knight,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bill Near,
Lou Reed,
Groovy Waters,
Pulsallama,
JFA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DNA,
Joensuu 1685,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mr. Review,
Black Flag,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Erykah Badu,
Oblivians,
The Cure,
Colin Newman,
Unrelated Segments,
Gabor Szabo,
Bluetip,
the Human League,
The Dead C,
Isaac Hayes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mo-Dettes,
UT,
Scion,
Nick Fraelich,
Ituana,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.