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 Togo and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Almond to the dance 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
T.S.O.L.,
Andrew Hill,
The Pop Group,
Interpol,
Mr. Review,
Pantytec,
Ronnie Foster,
Alton Ellis,
Hoover,
Throbbing Gristle,
Average White Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Deadbeat,
Marmalade,
LL Cool J,
Sonic Youth,
Peter and Kerry,
Roxy Music,
Kurtis Blow,
Arcadia,
Don Cherry,
Crash Course in Science,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Mummies,
ABBA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ornette Coleman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arab on Radar,
Pantaleimon,
Underground Resistance,
Faust,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Christie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marvin Gaye,
The Last Poets,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cybotron,
Animal Collective,
Cal Tjader,
The Martian,
Ponytail,
Dark Day,
Amazonics,
The Star Department,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Human League,
Chrome,
Nik Kershaw,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Kinks,
The Associates,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.