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 Austria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 OOIOO to the jazz 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
The Pretty Things,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
Accadde A,
Wally Richardson,
The Fugs,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Archie Shepp,
Goldenarms,
Magma,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Divine Comedy,
The Remains,
Boredoms,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Agent Orange,
Brick,
Patti Smith,
the Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun Ra,
Tres Demented,
The Real Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Moby Grape,
Henry Cow,
The Music Machine,
Faraquet,
The Trojans,
Piero Umiliani,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Derrick Morgan,
X-101,
John Foxx,
The Wake,
The Blues Magoos,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yellowson,
The Offenders,
The New Christs,
Blossom Toes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Smoke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Reagan Youth,
Dark Day,
Sandy B,
New Order,
Harry Pussy,
The Victims,
Derrick May,
In Retrospect,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Sherman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.