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 San Marino and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Techniques,
Circle Jerks,
Sight & Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kaleidoscope,
The Evens,
B.T. Express,
Index,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Infiniti,
Warsaw,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
T. Rex,
The Walker Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ludus,
Drexciya,
Joyce Sims,
Stiv Bators,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
The Sonics,
X-102,
Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suburban Knight,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
The Smiths,
a-ha,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül,
Tommy Roe,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wasted Youth,
Main Source,
Excepter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Visage,
Althea and Donna,
Bad Manners,
Warren Ellis,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Holt,
The Pop Group,
Audionom,
Neil Young,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.