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 Estonia and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Monolake to the grunge 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Half Japanese,
The Grass Roots,
John Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
Spandau Ballet,
Eden Ahbez,
Joyce Sims,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deakin,
Danielle Patucci,
Moss Icon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Morten Harket,
The Alarm Clocks,
Surgeon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Trumans Water,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crime,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chrome,
Colin Newman,
the Bar-Kays,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barrington Levy,
Hoover,
Sun City Girls,
Hardrive,
The Raincoats,
Janne Schatter,
K-Klass,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blancmange,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liliput,
Mary Jane Girls,
Model 500,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Offenders,
The Velvet Underground,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Organ,
Bootsy Collins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Television,
The Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Grauzone,
D'Angelo,
The Monks,
Television Personalities,
Fela Kuti,
Tubeway Army,
The Smoke,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.