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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Christie to the techno 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Eddi Front,
Tears for Fears,
Buzzcocks,
Joey Negro,
Surgeon,
The Pretty Things,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultra Naté,
The Human League,
Supertramp,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Suburban Knight,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Grass Roots,
The Evens,
Lou Christie,
Excepter,
Cal Tjader,
Mark Hollis,
Yazoo,
Half Japanese,
the Bar-Kays,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Los Fastidios,
The Gun Club,
Symarip,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hoover,
the Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
Jimmy McGriff,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
The Gap Band,
Fat Boys,
The Mojo Men,
The Tremeloes,
Wings,
Bob Dylan,
The Cramps,
These Immortal Souls,
Ten City,
MDC,
The Residents,
Mantronix,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dead Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Modern Lovers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Sonics,
T.S.O.L.,
Stiv Bators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.