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 Montenegro and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare 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 Grandmaster Flash to the techno 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Talk Talk,
Eddi Front,
Scrapy,
Desert Stars,
Moby Grape,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Stooges,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Spandau Ballet,
The Litter,
Danielle Patucci,
The Residents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eve St. Jones,
Drexciya,
Kas Product,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dawn Penn,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chrome,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wally Richardson,
Shoche,
Harmonia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Black Dice,
Donald Byrd,
Smog,
Moebius,
The Cramps,
Nico,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Can,
The Velvet Underground,
Circle Jerks,
The Offenders,
Gang Green,
Television Personalities,
Funky Four + One,
Altered Images,
Country Teasers,
Black Flag,
Joyce Sims,
Moss Icon,
Colin Newman,
Flipper,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vladislav Delay,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mission of Burma,
The Dirtbombs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dual Sessions,
The Birthday Party,
Technova,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.