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 Ivory Coast and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Slits to the punk 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Chris Corsano,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mantronix,
Thompson Twins,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Smog,
Suburban Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Eden Ahbez,
Aloha Tigers,
John Cale,
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman,
The J.B.'s,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oblivians,
Q65,
Magma,
Simply Red,
The Doors,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Sheep,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
The Star Department,
Warsaw,
Bob Dylan,
The Martian,
Model 500,
ABBA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
Frankie Knuckles,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Style,
Urselle,
Bush Tetras,
Freddie Wadling,
Sun Ra,
Slave,
Sister Nancy,
The Five Americans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Bauhaus,
Desert Stars,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall,
Popol Vuh,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soul II Soul,
Byron Stingily,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.