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 Liechtenstein and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pet Shop Boys to the disco 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
The Gories,
Piero Umiliani,
JFA,
Pulsallama,
Groovy Waters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Idris Muhammad,
Arcadia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aswad,
Lindisfarne,
Rekid,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pharoah Sanders,
Underground Resistance,
Mo-Dettes,
Matthew Bourne,
Amazonics,
Easy Going,
Pantaleimon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Das Ding,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Prince Buster,
Spandau Ballet,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
Chrome,
Motorama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aural Exciters,
Kayak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Moebius,
The Modern Lovers,
Jawbox,
Joy Division,
Schoolly D,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agent Orange,
Intrusion,
Joey Negro,
Qualms,
Alice Coltrane,
Grauzone,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Halsall,
The Divine Comedy,
The Leaves,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scrapy,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.