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 Chad and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Byron Stingily to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dawn Penn,
Al Stewart,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
U.S. Maple,
Skaos,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Christie,
DJ Sneak,
Kenny Larkin,
The Beau Brummels,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
Cluster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bill Wells,
Robert Görl,
Bronski Beat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tom Boy,
The Selecter,
PIL,
ABBA,
John Lydon,
Roxy Music,
The Star Department,
Marcia Griffiths,
Warren Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Minnie Riperton,
Bauhaus,
OOIOO,
Amon Düül II,
Fluxion,
Jacques Brel,
Mantronix,
These Immortal Souls,
Oneida,
The Golliwogs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cal Tjader,
The Angels of Light,
The Happenings,
KRS-One,
Iggy Pop,
The Fortunes,
ABC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Franke,
Deepchord,
Minny Pops,
Josef K,
Negative Approach,
Sister Nancy,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.