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 Bangladesh and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Howard Jones,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tres Demented,
Magma,
Derrick May,
Talk Talk,
La Düsseldorf,
Sun City Girls,
Q65,
Dual Sessions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deadbeat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reuben Wilson,
Nirvana,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
China Crisis,
Aswad,
Nas,
Public Enemy,
Alphaville,
Moebius,
Television,
Junior Murvin,
Fugazi,
Schoolly D,
Intrusion,
Sarah Menescal,
Cluster,
Freddie Wadling,
Thompson Twins,
Youth Brigade,
Sun Ra,
Aloha Tigers,
X-102,
Dave Gahan,
AZ,
10cc,
The Neon Judgement,
Wire,
Kenny Larkin,
Bush Tetras,
Brick,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kayak,
Sparks,
Subhumans,
Bobby Sherman,
The Names,
Duran Duran,
This Heat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.