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 Mongolia and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Human League to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warren Ellis,
Wally Richardson,
Sandy B,
The Pop Group,
Gabor Szabo,
Eve St. Jones,
Agent Orange,
DJ Sneak,
Don Cherry,
Interpol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Drexciya,
Moebius,
Mad Mike,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The New Christs,
Davy DMX,
Black Bananas,
Little Man,
Joyce Sims,
The Victims,
Audionom,
Iggy Pop,
L. Decosne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Second Layer,
Goldenarms,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wire,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
Unwound,
Jandek,
Panda Bear,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Thee Headcoats,
Zero Boys,
the Swans,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dead Boys,
June Days,
Adolescents,
The Techniques,
Deepchord,
Terry Callier,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mr. Review,
Metal Thangz,
The Motions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.