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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the grime 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Bar-Kays,
Scrapy,
Ken Boothe,
Black Moon,
Roy Ayers,
Moss Icon,
Max Romeo,
The Leaves,
The Residents,
Alison Limerick,
Bronski Beat,
Talk Talk,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Stockholm Monsters,
Schoolly D,
Aaron Thompson,
Von Mondo,
Underground Resistance,
Infiniti,
Dark Day,
The Grass Roots,
DNA,
48th St. Collective,
Supertramp,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
The Index,
Byron Stingily,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fugs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Warren Ellis,
Boredoms,
Heaven 17,
Funky Four + One,
Young Marble Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultravox,
a-ha,
Letta Mbulu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Country Teasers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fuzztones,
the Swans,
Yellowson,
Sun Ra,
Funkadelic,
The Pop Group,
Robert Görl,
Bluetip,
Rotary Connection,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cure,
Ten City,
Dual Sessions,
Aural Exciters,
The Seeds,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.