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 Russia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Deadbeat to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sister Nancy,
The Saints,
New Order,
the Normal,
The Associates,
Howard Jones,
Flash Fearless,
Yazoo,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
Jandek,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barbara Tucker,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Severed Heads,
Joyce Sims,
The Smoke,
Altered Images,
Albert Ayler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deadbeat,
Icehouse,
PIL,
Tommy Roe,
Anthony Braxton,
The Evens,
Shuggie Otis,
The Black Dice,
Colin Newman,
The Slits,
Franke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gun Club,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brick,
The Tremeloes,
Masters at Work,
Skriet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barrington Levy,
Nik Kershaw,
Procol Harum,
The Toasters,
Eden Ahbez,
Blossom Toes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
L. Decosne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bad Manners,
Amon Düül II,
Mars,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.