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 Jordan and from Halifax.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Beasts of Bourbon 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Skriet,
These Immortal Souls,
Mad Mike,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
CMW,
Ultra Naté,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warren Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
Smog,
Rites of Spring,
David Bowie,
Bobby Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Moebius,
Basic Channel,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Eli Mardock,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stiv Bators,
Pere Ubu,
B.T. Express,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Y Pants,
Faust,
X-101,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick Morgan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ten City,
Wasted Youth,
John Holt,
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sandy B,
John Foxx,
Absolute Body Control,
Wings,
Fatback Band,
The Gories,
The Smoke,
Dawn Penn,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
Oneida,
Inner City,
Newcleus,
Girls At Our Best!,
ABC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Darondo,
the Human League,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.