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 Lithuania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 H. Thieme to the grime 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
The Remains,
One Last Wish,
Steve Hackett,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aloha Tigers,
Can,
Aswad,
Boogie Down Productions,
DNA,
Das Ding,
Deakin,
Goldenarms,
Parry Music,
Jeff Mills,
Ossler,
Con Funk Shun,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harmonia,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Trojans,
Wire,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Litter,
Masters at Work,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Modern Lovers,
D'Angelo,
Bill Near,
Maurizio,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Section 25,
Frankie Knuckles,
Quantec,
Infiniti,
Shuggie Otis,
The Associates,
Mandrill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Skriet,
Amon Düül,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Normal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ohio Players,
Dual Sessions,
Wolf Eyes,
Yellowson,
Aaron Thompson,
The Move,
Essential Logic,
Brass Construction,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.