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 Slovenia and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marmalade to the crunk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Lungfish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
Janne Schatter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Trojans,
Joy Division,
John Foxx,
Althea and Donna,
The Fall,
Infiniti,
The Neon Judgement,
Camouflage,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultra Naté,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jerry's Kids,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
Stetsasonic,
Dawn Penn,
Urselle,
Soft Cell,
Kerrie Biddell,
Con Funk Shun,
Lyres,
The Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
The Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
48th St. Collective,
Ash Ra Tempel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Remains,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Evens,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
Liliput,
One Last Wish,
Gang Green,
Michelle Simonal,
Radiohead,
Gichy Dan,
Second Layer,
The Names,
The Moleskins,
Niagra,
Eric Copeland,
The Monochrome Set,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Essential Logic,
Section 25,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Sheep,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.