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 Latvia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Accadde A,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yellowson,
The Residents,
Interpol,
Vladislav Delay,
K-Klass,
The Slits,
Heaven 17,
Steve Hackett,
Mo-Dettes,
Echospace,
Gang Starr,
Supertramp,
Saccharine Trust,
Marvin Gaye,
Shoche,
PIL,
Albert Ayler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blancmange,
Funkadelic,
Shuggie Otis,
Arab on Radar,
World's Most,
Porter Ricks,
Wire,
John Foxx,
Japan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eurythmics,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rapeman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Model 500,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Hood,
Todd Terry,
Scratch Acid,
Severed Heads,
Roxette,
Henry Cow,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Parrish,
The Selecter,
Make Up,
Vainqueur,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hoover,
Little Man,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Lydon,
The Doors,
Youth Brigade,
The Moody Blues,
The Motions,
Cameo,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.