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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba 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 Joey Negro to the punk 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Darondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pagans,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Cell,
Unwound,
Bizarre Inc.,
Can,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Sarah Menescal,
Visage,
Grauzone,
The Happenings,
Cheater Slicks,
DNA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fluxion,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
Scrapy,
Brand Nubian,
Pylon,
Brick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Erykah Badu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Parrish,
Joe Smooth,
Juan Atkins,
Janne Schatter,
The Index,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near,
June of 44,
Groovy Waters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dirtbombs,
Frankie Knuckles,
June Days,
Harmonia,
Model 500,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ohio Players,
Robert Hood,
Motorama,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
ABC,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dawn Penn,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.