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 Latvia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Cramps to the dance 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
the Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Electric Prunes,
Idris Muhammad,
Lucky Dragons,
Moby Grape,
The Smoke,
The Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
Pussy Galore,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Axelrod,
Heaven 17,
a-ha,
Terry Callier,
Black Pus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Rufus Thomas,
10cc,
The Standells,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Animal Collective,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Starr,
The Slackers,
Maurizio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Reed,
Bush Tetras,
MC5,
Juan Atkins,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
The Golliwogs,
Barry Ungar,
Fugazi,
Sister Nancy,
Ronnie Foster,
OOIOO,
Brick,
Jeff Lynne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Circle Jerks,
LL Cool J,
The Wake,
Dead Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wings,
The Vogues,
Soft Cell,
Zapp,
The American Breed,
The Techniques,
Radiohead,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.