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 Denmark and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Godley & Creme to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
The Motions,
Crooked Eye,
The Dirtbombs,
The Gories,
New Age Steppers,
Mission of Burma,
Liliput,
Wolf Eyes,
The Five Americans,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Connie Case,
Franke,
Amazonics,
Q65,
Q and Not U,
Fat Boys,
June Days,
The Dead C,
Silicon Teens,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sonny Sharrock,
The Techniques,
Marc Almond,
Boredoms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mummies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Danielle Patucci,
Pagans,
The Move,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Order,
Eric B and Rakim,
Laurel Aitken,
Television,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Standells,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Lydon,
D'Angelo,
Toni Rubio,
Jandek,
E-Dancer,
Funky Four + One,
Sixth Finger,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
FM Einheit,
Ornette Coleman,
Cluster,
Letta Mbulu,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.