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 Tonga 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Desert Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Vainqueur,
Tom Boy,
Jeff Lynne,
The Litter,
Lungfish,
Neil Young,
Babytalk,
The Stooges,
Stereo Dub,
Cal Tjader,
the Bar-Kays,
MDC,
Joy Division,
Tommy Roe,
B.T. Express,
Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Surgeon,
Pantytec,
Radiohead,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Y Pants,
This Heat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Coltrane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kenny Larkin,
Model 500,
Liliput,
Stiv Bators,
Easy Going,
The Beau Brummels,
Boredoms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Albert Ayler,
Sun City Girls,
New Order,
Zapp,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dave Gahan,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
Quando Quango,
Echospace,
Supertramp,
Ronnie Foster,
Bad Manners,
Frankie Knuckles,
Little Man,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Christie,
The Victims,
Essential Logic,
Mars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flipper,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.