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 Malawi and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the crunk 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Unrelated Segments,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
Freddie Wadling,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-Ray Spex,
Kayak,
Tim Buckley,
Skaos,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ken Boothe,
Alphaville,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Model 500,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
LL Cool J,
Eli Mardock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sight & Sound,
Country Teasers,
The Move,
cv313,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee,
Cheater Slicks,
Mars,
Supertramp,
Rekid,
Todd Terry,
The Names,
Bad Manners,
Erasure,
Sonic Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Tremeloes,
Vainqueur,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Can,
The Fire Engines,
Zapp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
CMW,
Harry Pussy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grauzone,
Scion,
Jeff Mills,
the Association,
Magma,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.