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 Poland and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the disco 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Cowsills,
Niagra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cramps,
The Monochrome Set,
Fat Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
Zero Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Near,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
Prince Buster,
Alphaville,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Slackers,
Monks,
The Kinks,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monks,
Cameo,
New Age Steppers,
Index,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Flag,
the Swans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hoover,
The Knickerbockers,
Pantaleimon,
Kaleidoscope,
FM Einheit,
Deepchord,
Infiniti,
Gang of Four,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
MC5,
Robert Hood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ronnie Foster,
Pere Ubu,
The Techniques,
Newcleus,
The Seeds,
Darondo,
Bronski Beat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
R.M.O.,
The Moody Blues,
Hasil Adkins,
Rosa Yemen,
Joy Division,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ornette Coleman,
Howard Jones,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.