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 Angola and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultimate Spinach 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Blossom Toes,
Rhythm & Sound,
FM Einheit,
Mad Mike,
Soft Machine,
T. Rex,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Residents,
Max Romeo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Piero Umiliani,
This Heat,
Robert Wyatt,
Skriet,
Nirvana,
Colin Newman,
Mandrill,
Glenn Branca,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
Albert Ayler,
Visage,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Womack,
Eric B and Rakim,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
Roxy Music,
Leonard Cohen,
Maurizio,
Grauzone,
Joe Smooth,
The Gun Club,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drexciya,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ornette Coleman,
Pantytec,
Sight & Sound,
The Last Poets,
T.S.O.L.,
Unwound,
Fat Boys,
ABC,
Scrapy,
Nas,
The Techniques,
The Dead C,
The Music Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Monochrome Set,
Kerri Chandler,
Hasil Adkins,
The Young Rascals,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Graham Central Station,
Ponytail,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.