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 Laos and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the rock 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Livin' Joy,
Stiv Bators,
Crime,
Barbara Tucker,
Rotary Connection,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pylon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kayak,
KRS-One,
The Tremeloes,
Smog,
DNA,
Rekid,
Echospace,
The Litter,
Von Mondo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moss Icon,
Gang of Four,
Wire,
Babytalk,
David McCallum,
Graham Central Station,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ituana,
John Cale,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quadrant,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine,
Model 500,
K-Klass,
Kaleidoscope,
John Holt,
Negative Approach,
Wolf Eyes,
Althea and Donna,
Bluetip,
The Doors,
Oneida,
Aloha Tigers,
Schoolly D,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare,
The Standells,
a-ha,
Royal Trux,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crash Course in Science,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soul II Soul,
ABC,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Steve Hackett,
Scott Walker,
Dawn Penn,
Howard Jones,
Deadbeat,
EPMD,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick May,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.