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 Monaco and from Cairo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Colin Newman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Anthony Braxton,
the Soft Cell,
Marvin Gaye,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Wyatt,
This Heat,
Underground Resistance,
K-Klass,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators,
Archie Shepp,
The Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kayak,
The Move,
Joe Smooth,
the Slits,
Henry Cow,
The Cramps,
Hashim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sister Nancy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rosa Yemen,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hot Snakes,
Ice-T,
The Names,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wire,
Graham Central Station,
Harry Pussy,
Sparks,
The Five Americans,
AZ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Interpol,
The Saints,
Colin Newman,
LL Cool J,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
Roy Ayers,
The New Christs,
Mr. Review,
Alton Ellis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Slick Rick,
Nas,
The Barracudas,
Alphaville,
Oblivians,
The Offenders,
Rekid,
The Music Machine,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.