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 Djibouti and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Standells to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Sparks,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arcadia,
The Golliwogs,
James White and The Blacks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soul Sonic Force,
One Last Wish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gun Club,
Second Layer,
The Searchers,
Dennis Brown,
Spoonie Gee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Swell Maps,
Vladislav Delay,
The Toasters,
Bang On A Can,
Little Man,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Litter,
Outsiders,
Blossom Toes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aaron Thompson,
Laurel Aitken,
John Coltrane,
Infiniti,
Siglo XX,
Rites of Spring,
Animal Collective,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maleditus Sound,
Television Personalities,
Donald Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Christie,
Sex Pistols,
Ralphi Rosario,
DJ Sneak,
Mad Mike,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Youth Brigade,
Flipper,
The Moody Blues,
Stiv Bators,
Ossler,
The Barracudas,
Shuggie Otis,
Scrapy,
Crash Course in Science,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.