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 Thailand and from Lille.
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 Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rites of Spring 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Angry Samoans,
Khruangbin,
Young Marble Giants,
These Immortal Souls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Matthew Bourne,
The Toasters,
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül II,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minnie Riperton,
Smog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Das Ding,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grauzone,
Soft Cell,
Magma,
The Index,
Iggy Pop,
MDC,
Eddi Front,
The Smoke,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
Tropical Tobacco,
Darondo,
Spandau Ballet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crooked Eye,
The Monks,
Bootsy Collins,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Görl,
Chris & Cosey,
Wally Richardson,
Rakim,
Wings,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Boz Scaggs,
Absolute Body Control,
The Searchers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
AZ,
Soft Machine,
Todd Rundgren,
Unrelated Segments,
Laurel Aitken,
Kayak,
The Cramps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Graham Central Station,
Kenny Larkin,
Harry Pussy,
The Associates,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.