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 Seychelles and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Todd Terry to the funk 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rapeman,
Angry Samoans,
Stiv Bators,
T.S.O.L.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Archie Shepp,
Freddie Wadling,
Flash Fearless,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Sherman,
Basic Channel,
Dawn Penn,
Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacques Brel,
The Fall,
Lindisfarne,
Scrapy,
Zapp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
Tubeway Army,
Morten Harket,
Glenn Branca,
Unrelated Segments,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Unwound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Foxx,
MDC,
Soft Machine,
Barry Ungar,
Soulsonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
a-ha,
Darondo,
La Düsseldorf,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Happenings,
Fat Boys,
ABC,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jandek,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Byrd,
Duran Duran,
New York Dolls,
Rosa Yemen,
Sällskapet,
Minny Pops,
Black Pus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deepchord,
Absolute Body Control,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.