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 Bulgaria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Harpers Bizarre to the electroclash 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
The Monks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fire Engines,
Pagans,
Bad Manners,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stereo Dub,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Qualms,
Mad Mike,
Jandek,
Camouflage,
Brick,
The Fall,
Essential Logic,
James White and The Blacks,
Letta Mbulu,
Rites of Spring,
The Music Machine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Michelle Simonal,
Das Ding,
Monks,
Ice-T,
Wings,
Sixth Finger,
The Misunderstood,
The Remains,
Rufus Thomas,
Average White Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Drive Like Jehu,
EPMD,
Anthony Braxton,
the Slits,
Black Flag,
Duran Duran,
K-Klass,
Chris Corsano,
Young Marble Giants,
World's Most,
The Human League,
Henry Cow,
Wire,
Banda Bassotti,
Lakeside,
Lalo Schifrin,
Interpol,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dave Gahan,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Procol Harum,
Eli Mardock,
Sonic Youth,
Marine Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
The Gladiators,
Don Cherry,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.