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 San Marino and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Mr. Review 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Dave Gahan,
Archie Shepp,
Harmonia,
Lalann,
The Martian,
Flipper,
Nils Olav,
Ronan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Foxx,
Subhumans,
Stetsasonic,
The Searchers,
Mission of Burma,
Neil Young,
Swans,
Rakim,
Smog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drexciya,
Panda Bear,
the Sonics,
Cymande,
Icehouse,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Adolescents,
Bronski Beat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Marc Almond,
Blancmange,
Marshall Jefferson,
Skaos,
Lungfish,
Barry Ungar,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eurythmics,
The Busters,
Roxette,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deakin,
The Leaves,
Camouflage,
The United States of America,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Buckinghams,
Siglo XX,
Matthew Halsall,
Dawn Penn,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
the Soft Cell,
Television Personalities,
The Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Aloha Tigers,
Anthony Braxton,
Stiv Bators,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.