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 Bahamas and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Moleskins to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Subhumans,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
the Sonics,
Basic Channel,
Adolescents,
The Mummies,
Marshall Jefferson,
Talk Talk,
Lyres,
Eli Mardock,
Rekid,
The Kinks,
Outsiders,
Agent Orange,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Divine Comedy,
These Immortal Souls,
Can,
Severed Heads,
Barrington Levy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blake Baxter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quadrant,
Slick Rick,
U.S. Maple,
Hoover,
Groovy Waters,
Nick Fraelich,
Cecil Taylor,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cowsills,
T. Rex,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magazine,
Aloha Tigers,
Al Stewart,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
Ronan,
Silicon Teens,
Johnny Clarke,
Don Cherry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alice Coltrane,
X-102,
8 Eyed Spy,
Colin Newman,
Fat Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Motorama,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.