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 Brunei and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
Sun Ra,
Mo-Dettes,
Subhumans,
Mars,
Suicide,
Can,
Average White Band,
Rod Modell,
CMW,
Carl Craig,
H. Thieme,
Juan Atkins,
Hashim,
Chrome,
Nico,
Zapp,
The Smoke,
Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Los Fastidios,
Lower 48,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
The Golliwogs,
Pussy Galore,
Sexual Harrassment,
Don Cherry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Funkadelic,
Kaleidoscope,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Depeche Mode,
The Mojo Men,
Thompson Twins,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Wells,
The Saints,
Wasted Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Black Dice,
Girls At Our Best!,
Inner City,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-Ray Spex,
Crash Course in Science,
Ultravox,
Mission of Burma,
Urselle,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Whodini,
Radiohead,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marvin Gaye,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.