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 Togo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arab on Radar,
Sällskapet,
Kas Product,
Todd Rundgren,
Barry Ungar,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
The Divine Comedy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sugar Minott,
Dual Sessions,
Public Enemy,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fall,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry's Kids,
The Busters,
The Names,
Cluster,
The Smoke,
Animal Collective,
Don Cherry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Faust,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
The Happenings,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radio Birdman,
Hot Snakes,
Lower 48,
Banda Bassotti,
Al Stewart,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Teasers,
John Cale,
Dead Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Starr,
Mark Hollis,
The Saints,
DJ Sneak,
The Index,
China Crisis,
Half Japanese,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wally Richardson,
Slick Rick,
Goldenarms,
Depeche Mode,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amon Düül,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.