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 Turkey and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Sparks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terry Callier,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Interpol,
Barclay James Harvest,
Depeche Mode,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
Eve St. Jones,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
The Kinks,
The Offenders,
Wasted Youth,
Joyce Sims,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Byrd,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
Warsaw,
Young Marble Giants,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Godley & Creme,
Rufus Thomas,
Adolescents,
The Trojans,
Second Layer,
The Knickerbockers,
Electric Prunes,
Cymande,
Q and Not U,
Brick,
Gichy Dan,
The Red Krayola,
Henry Cow,
Pantaleimon,
Roxy Music,
Mark Hollis,
The Associates,
L. Decosne,
Ludus,
Altered Images,
Thee Headcoats,
Deadbeat,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.