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 Nicaragua and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 H. Thieme to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Cale,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eric Copeland,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kenny Larkin,
Sarah Menescal,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Matthew Halsall,
Panda Bear,
Stetsasonic,
Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bush Tetras,
The Tremeloes,
T. Rex,
Quando Quango,
Nik Kershaw,
The Raincoats,
Ponytail,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
The Smoke,
The Victims,
The Cowsills,
Cluster,
The Trojans,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fuzztones,
Parry Music,
Charles Mingus,
Khruangbin,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Green,
Au Pairs,
Pole,
Wolf Eyes,
One Last Wish,
Junior Murvin,
Matthew Bourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Association,
The Saints,
Sam Rivers,
Lungfish,
Wire,
Fatback Band,
Magazine,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aural Exciters,
Black Sheep,
Fear,
Los Fastidios,
The Cure,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.