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 Jordan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Suicide to the rap 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Spandau Ballet,
LL Cool J,
H. Thieme,
The Neon Judgement,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rod Modell,
Heaven 17,
Mad Mike,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Scrapy,
Blossom Toes,
Underground Resistance,
Hardrive,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slackers,
Faraquet,
Blancmange,
Lower 48,
Kas Product,
The Raincoats,
Young Marble Giants,
Intrusion,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Suicide,
UT,
The Remains,
Silicon Teens,
Nas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Davy DMX,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter and Kerry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moby Grape,
Howard Jones,
Ultra Naté,
Groovy Waters,
Audionom,
The Gun Club,
Boredoms,
Bauhaus,
Masters at Work,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lakeside,
Nik Kershaw,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pole,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
Alice Coltrane,
Arthur Verocai,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grandmaster Flash,
DJ Style,
Patti Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Das Ding,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.