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 Somalia and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Womack to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Magma,
Accadde A,
Bobby Womack,
Los Fastidios,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
The Sound,
Second Layer,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hot Snakes,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amazonics,
The Gories,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra,
DJ Sneak,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Anakelly,
Lakeside,
Janne Schatter,
Rites of Spring,
Severed Heads,
Goldenarms,
Surgeon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Godley & Creme,
Joy Division,
David Axelrod,
Radiohead,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
Technova,
Babytalk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kas Product,
Dark Day,
The Moleskins,
These Immortal Souls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nas,
Pere Ubu,
Nils Olav,
Half Japanese,
Danielle Patucci,
Reagan Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Starr,
T. Rex,
Subhumans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.