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 Zimbabwe and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Pretty Things to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Fat Boys,
Arcadia,
Rapeman,
The Electric Prunes,
The Happenings,
Reuben Wilson,
The Slackers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Normal,
Cluster,
One Last Wish,
Yazoo,
Organ,
Laurel Aitken,
Gichy Dan,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Lynne,
Ituana,
Johnny Osbourne,
Leonard Cohen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Toasters,
Banda Bassotti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
Symarip,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joey Negro,
Peter and Kerry,
Masters at Work,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joy Division,
The Victims,
Man Parrish,
Scientists,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cheater Slicks,
Moby Grape,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sonic Youth,
Inner City,
The Smoke,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ponytail,
Lakeside,
Ultra Naté,
Joyce Sims,
Slick Rick,
The Last Poets,
H. Thieme,
Danielle Patucci,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aaron Thompson,
Cecil Taylor,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.