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 Philippines and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Kenny Larkin to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Minnie Riperton,
Fluxion,
L. Decosne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Motorama,
The J.B.'s,
Lalann,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mandrill,
Swell Maps,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Flag,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Starr,
Nation of Ulysses,
Severed Heads,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chris Corsano,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiohead,
Nils Olav,
Scrapy,
Royal Trux,
Anthony Braxton,
This Heat,
Unrelated Segments,
Rites of Spring,
Oneida,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Morten Harket,
Bad Manners,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Accadde A,
Can,
Roxette,
Circle Jerks,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
Make Up,
The Slackers,
Skaos,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman,
The Red Krayola,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Pop Group,
Clear Light,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fall,
T. Rex,
Fat Boys,
Niagra,
Yaz,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.