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 Oman and from Tokyo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Nik Kershaw to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
The Moleskins,
Rufus Thomas,
Kenny Larkin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy Collins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Babytalk,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fugs,
Aaron Thompson,
Theoretical Girls,
Max Romeo,
Infiniti,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Seeds,
Pagans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Human League,
A Certain Ratio,
Moss Icon,
Siglo XX,
Patti Smith,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Cale,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
Boz Scaggs,
The Black Dice,
The Sound,
David McCallum,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Bourne,
Aswad,
Bill Near,
The Mojo Men,
The Gories,
Bauhaus,
Morten Harket,
Rosa Yemen,
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Suburban Knight,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Arcadia,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scrapy,
Loose Ends,
Iggy Pop,
Tres Demented,
Essential Logic,
R.M.O.,
Marc Almond,
Godley & Creme,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.