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 Norway and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Davy DMX to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Christie,
Black Pus,
Niagra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Organ,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed,
New Age Steppers,
DNA,
Sex Pistols,
Minny Pops,
Crispian St. Peters,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Remains,
Depeche Mode,
Cal Tjader,
Technova,
Lakeside,
The Last Poets,
Letta Mbulu,
Wally Richardson,
Stiv Bators,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Sherman,
Gregory Isaacs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
Spandau Ballet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roxy Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Duran Duran,
Michelle Simonal,
Los Fastidios,
The Knickerbockers,
Accadde A,
Bizarre Inc.,
The New Christs,
MC5,
Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
Q and Not U,
Japan,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Derrick Morgan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Goldenarms,
Fear,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.