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 Portugal 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Marc Almond to the dance 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jandek,
Amazonics,
Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
The Velvet Underground,
Arcadia,
Marine Girls,
DNA,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
the Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
T. Rex,
Rites of Spring,
Aloha Tigers,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Franke,
The Move,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül,
Boredoms,
The Names,
The Gap Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
KRS-One,
Derrick May,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Idris Muhammad,
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
Fugazi,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dead C,
Matthew Halsall,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers,
The Cramps,
Faust,
Yusef Lateef,
Neu!,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
Mark Hollis,
Pagans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacob Miller,
Steve Hackett,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Count Five,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Connie Case,
The Slits,
Pylon,
Von Mondo,
Joey Negro,
Sun City Girls,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.