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 Morocco and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Arcadia to the dance 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Erasure,
Subhumans,
Angry Samoans,
The Slits,
Reuben Wilson,
The Birthday Party,
The Evens,
Susan Cadogan,
Swans,
Minny Pops,
Boz Scaggs,
Saccharine Trust,
Janne Schatter,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pere Ubu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rites of Spring,
Tears for Fears,
Alice Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cure,
Lightning Bolt,
The Associates,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bob Dylan,
Pole,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
MDC,
Q and Not U,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Motorama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nation of Ulysses,
Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Essential Logic,
Eli Mardock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ludus,
Marc Almond,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Blake Baxter,
Q65,
Ornette Coleman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Barry Ungar,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
Clear Light,
The New Christs,
Brass Construction,
Malaria!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sister Nancy,
One Last Wish,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.