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 Malta and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 The Moleskins 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nik Kershaw,
Pantaleimon,
The Fuzztones,
Deepchord,
Bronski Beat,
Fluxion,
the Swans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Charles Mingus,
Fear,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Fat Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Section 25,
The Sonics,
Moebius,
Avey Tare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fall,
Marc Almond,
X-101,
Bush Tetras,
MC5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swell Maps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Technova,
Sarah Menescal,
John Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
Robert Görl,
Vladislav Delay,
Siglo XX,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scan 7,
Dennis Brown,
Smog,
Carl Craig,
The Stooges,
Hot Snakes,
Con Funk Shun,
Boredoms,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABC,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Moon,
The Barracudas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Mills,
JFA,
Hardrive,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Sherman,
Make Up,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.