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 Monaco and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Flamin' Groovies to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
The Velvet Underground,
Stereo Dub,
Shuggie Otis,
Mantronix,
Flipper,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Black Dice,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sun Ra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Alison Limerick,
Dark Day,
Youth Brigade,
Chrome,
Howard Jones,
EPMD,
Fela Kuti,
Malaria!,
the Swans,
Skriet,
Kayak,
Can,
Cluster,
Trumans Water,
Goldenarms,
Eli Mardock,
Steve Hackett,
E-Dancer,
The Victims,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boredoms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
The Index,
Buzzcocks,
The United States of America,
Roger Hodgson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Icehouse,
Country Teasers,
Basic Channel,
Rotary Connection,
Pantaleimon,
Idris Muhammad,
The Names,
Leonard Cohen,
Duran Duran,
Liliput,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pussy Galore,
Von Mondo,
Average White Band,
Barry Ungar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T. Rex,
John Cale,
The Monochrome Set,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.