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 Suriname and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Lou Reed 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 Second Layer to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy Collins,
The Remains,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Angels of Light,
Sparks,
Jandek,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sister Nancy,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
The Gories,
Clear Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Simply Red,
Groovy Waters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Wally Richardson,
Roxette,
June Days,
Janne Schatter,
Stiv Bators,
John Lydon,
Arcadia,
Eurythmics,
Bluetip,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cybotron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wings,
the Swans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Sherman,
Boredoms,
KRS-One,
The Real Kids,
Basic Channel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jacob Miller,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ronnie Foster,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
Aural Exciters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kaleidoscope,
The Five Americans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
Ronan,
Little Man,
Intrusion,
Goldenarms,
Black Pus,
The Leaves,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.