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 Yemen and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Junior Murvin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cramps,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Erykah Badu,
Clear Light,
Visage,
Rod Modell,
Aswad,
Index,
the Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
48th St. Collective,
Jandek,
Scott Walker,
Byron Stingily,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Pretty Things,
Oneida,
Motorama,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Saints,
Yazoo,
The Dead C,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Essential Logic,
Rites of Spring,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dead Boys,
L. Decosne,
Eli Mardock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Spandau Ballet,
Franke,
Tommy Roe,
T.S.O.L.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry's Kids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Don Cherry,
Hot Snakes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
Delon & Dalcan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Audionom,
Newcleus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Young Marble Giants,
the Association,
Outsiders,
the Swans,
Theoretical Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
OOIOO,
Ludus,
John Lydon,
D'Angelo,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.