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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Joy Division to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Radio Birdman,
Rufus Thomas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mandrill,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cowsills,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sonics,
John Foxx,
Derrick May,
Angry Samoans,
Patti Smith,
Pylon,
U.S. Maple,
The Fortunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
cv313,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
The Leaves,
Roy Ayers,
Brass Construction,
Ronan,
Robert Hood,
This Heat,
Maleditus Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Moebius,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Easy Going,
Metal Thangz,
Excepter,
Connie Case,
Glenn Branca,
Spandau Ballet,
Saccharine Trust,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalo Schifrin,
Judy Mowatt,
Simply Red,
a-ha,
Bootsy Collins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cybotron,
The Monochrome Set,
Television Personalities,
Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Standells,
Cecil Taylor,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.