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 China and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bang On A Can to the techno 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Kas Product,
Gang Green,
Bang On A Can,
Chris Corsano,
the Swans,
David Bowie,
In Retrospect,
Robert Hood,
Silicon Teens,
Dawn Penn,
The Grass Roots,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wasted Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Alarm Clocks,
The J.B.'s,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Finger,
Nico,
Aural Exciters,
Bluetip,
The Litter,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
The Toasters,
Barry Ungar,
Desert Stars,
Little Man,
Mission of Burma,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joey Negro,
Pere Ubu,
Funkadelic,
Sugar Minott,
Bauhaus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
KRS-One,
Blake Baxter,
D'Angelo,
Aaron Thompson,
The Index,
Black Moon,
The Music Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Görl,
the Germs,
Half Japanese,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Colin Newman,
Isaac Hayes,
MDC,
Bush Tetras,
Reuben Wilson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Connie Case,
Pagans,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.