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 East Timor and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 techno 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Fear,
The Slackers,
Iggy Pop,
Parry Music,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Faust,
X-Ray Spex,
Wolf Eyes,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Sonics,
Mad Mike,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Clarke,
John Foxx,
Hardrive,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
PIL,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kas Product,
Minor Threat,
Piero Umiliani,
Aloha Tigers,
The United States of America,
Rod Modell,
Organ,
The Doors,
La Düsseldorf,
Brick,
Television Personalities,
Sonic Youth,
The Selecter,
The Monks,
Easy Going,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MDC,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bluetip,
Ituana,
Zero Boys,
Anakelly,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ludus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eve St. Jones,
Nico,
Eden Ahbez,
Yaz,
Liliput,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Con Funk Shun,
Dead Boys,
Cluster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minutemen,
Blossom Toes,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.