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 Tuvalu and from Beijing.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer 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?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wire,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scan 7,
H. Thieme,
Cluster,
Bush Tetras,
Urselle,
Bad Manners,
a-ha,
Deadbeat,
X-Ray Spex,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeff Lynne,
Theoretical Girls,
Agitation Free,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soft Cell,
Jeff Mills,
D'Angelo,
The Angels of Light,
Kerri Chandler,
Judy Mowatt,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Babytalk,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed,
Visage,
Mission of Burma,
Magazine,
The Fugs,
Colin Newman,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Hood,
Iggy Pop,
Grauzone,
Fluxion,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joy Division,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Outsiders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Foxx,
The Saints,
Hoover,
Morten Harket,
The Neon Judgement,
Brick,
The Cowsills,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tears for Fears,
The Litter,
Swans,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.