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 Tanzania and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
Pussy Galore,
Eddi Front,
Marc Almond,
Gang Starr,
Bill Near,
Gabor Szabo,
Godley & Creme,
Soulsonic Force,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter and Kerry,
Colin Newman,
Circle Jerks,
The Sonics,
The Monochrome Set,
Minny Pops,
Half Japanese,
kango's stein massive,
Henry Cow,
Loose Ends,
Chrome,
Can,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scan 7,
Hashim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Association,
K-Klass,
The Remains,
Suicide,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faraquet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magma,
Aural Exciters,
Reagan Youth,
Dead Boys,
The Selecter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Au Pairs,
Ronan,
T. Rex,
Vainqueur,
Lucky Dragons,
Michelle Simonal,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang of Four,
La Düsseldorf,
Glenn Branca,
Porter Ricks,
Sandy B,
John Cale,
Cybotron,
Roxette,
June Days,
The Durutti Column,
Pantytec,
The Smiths,
Mantronix,
Lou Reed,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.