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 Mali and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Radiohead to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Yellowson,
Eve St. Jones,
In Retrospect,
KRS-One,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Red Krayola,
Theoretical Girls,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
The Smoke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
U.S. Maple,
AZ,
Reagan Youth,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
Make Up,
Cymande,
Sam Rivers,
Jeff Mills,
Youth Brigade,
Guru Guru,
Lucky Dragons,
the Normal,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultravox,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Quando Quango,
Spandau Ballet,
Piero Umiliani,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rod Modell,
Alison Limerick,
Royal Trux,
The Misunderstood,
The Star Department,
The Count Five,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Human League,
Jacob Miller,
a-ha,
Magma,
Hasil Adkins,
Traffic Nightmare,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gun Club,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Japan,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Osbourne,
ABC,
Livin' Joy,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.