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 Pakistan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 John Lydon to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Jandek,
The Sound,
Black Flag,
China Crisis,
Agitation Free,
Tom Boy,
Anakelly,
The Sonics,
The Slackers,
Iggy Pop,
Khruangbin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
KRS-One,
T.S.O.L.,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Simply Red,
Bad Manners,
Magazine,
Bang On A Can,
Porter Ricks,
The Litter,
the Slits,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
Accadde A,
Sonic Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grauzone,
Eric Copeland,
Hardrive,
The Velvet Underground,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
The Leaves,
Can,
Banda Bassotti,
Cecil Taylor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
June Days,
Mandrill,
Joy Division,
Chris & Cosey,
Erykah Badu,
Arcadia,
Yazoo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sight & Sound,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Leonard Cohen,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.