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 Romania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Goldenarms to the punk 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Rakim,
The Dead C,
Magma,
Bluetip,
Letta Mbulu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nico,
Al Stewart,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cybotron,
Livin' Joy,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Invisible,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bang On A Can,
Eden Ahbez,
The Real Kids,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gichy Dan,
Minny Pops,
Saccharine Trust,
10cc,
The Modern Lovers,
Interpol,
Rapeman,
Ultravox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nils Olav,
Panda Bear,
Organ,
World's Most,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lalann,
Harry Pussy,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare,
Quantec,
Moby Grape,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rosa Yemen,
Alice Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Aloha Tigers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fela Kuti,
The Monks,
Guru Guru,
Lower 48,
The Remains,
Faraquet,
Youth Brigade,
Television,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül II,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Zapp,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.