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 Japan and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Second Layer,
Lindisfarne,
Trumans Water,
Thee Headcoats,
Unwound,
Clear Light,
Radiohead,
Nico,
Matthew Bourne,
Icehouse,
Mars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Juan Atkins,
The Velvet Underground,
Fugazi,
Cymande,
Minny Pops,
Susan Cadogan,
Stetsasonic,
Mandrill,
L. Decosne,
Smog,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
10cc,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lower 48,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cal Tjader,
Basic Channel,
Bootsy Collins,
Porter Ricks,
Inner City,
The Dead C,
the Normal,
Duran Duran,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Byrd,
Hashim,
Spandau Ballet,
Ituana,
Skaos,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
Loose Ends,
The Raincoats,
The Tremeloes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Gladiators,
Brothers Johnson,
The Knickerbockers,
Pylon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Index,
Liliput,
The Golliwogs,
Bluetip,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.