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 Latvia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 Aswad to the dance 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Maurizio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Arcadia,
The Zeros,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thompson Twins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker,
Franke,
Grauzone,
the Bar-Kays,
Livin' Joy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Youth Brigade,
John Lydon,
Connie Case,
The Searchers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Q and Not U,
Todd Terry,
Metal Thangz,
FM Einheit,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
JFA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Seeds,
Masters at Work,
Wasted Youth,
Marc Almond,
ABBA,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
R.M.O.,
Brand Nubian,
The Martian,
Fela Kuti,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Procol Harum,
John Holt,
Los Fastidios,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liliput,
Gang Green,
Angry Samoans,
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
The Cure,
Bizarre Inc.,
Trumans Water,
Ohio Players,
Joe Finger,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Grass Roots,
Erasure,
Brothers Johnson,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.