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 Congo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Peter & Gordon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The American Breed,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fatback Band,
Johnny Clarke,
the Slits,
New Order,
The Stooges,
Ponytail,
Joe Finger,
Skarface,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Young Marble Giants,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang of Four,
Rod Modell,
Aural Exciters,
E-Dancer,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Count Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
Smog,
Dark Day,
New York Dolls,
The Cramps,
Freddie Wadling,
the Swans,
Sight & Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Quando Quango,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
Sällskapet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marmalade,
Ornette Coleman,
Slick Rick,
Mr. Review,
Trumans Water,
Infiniti,
Ten City,
Bluetip,
Rotary Connection,
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
the Normal,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Howard Jones,
Television,
Average White Band,
Bobby Byrd,
kango's stein massive,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.