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 Romania and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Graham Central Station to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
EPMD,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Smog,
Grandmaster Flash,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
The Knickerbockers,
Procol Harum,
Morten Harket,
Negative Approach,
Funky Four + One,
Fluxion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Interpol,
The Offenders,
Outsiders,
Skarface,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brick,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alice Coltrane,
Jimmy McGriff,
Malaria!,
B.T. Express,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
Quando Quango,
Davy DMX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Erasure,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nico,
Liliput,
The Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jawbox,
The United States of America,
Nils Olav,
Crime,
Sandy B,
Roxette,
Joe Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gladiators,
Godley & Creme,
Byron Stingily,
Mars,
The Golliwogs,
Scan 7,
Cheater Slicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.