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 Antigua and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Banda Bassotti,
Nils Olav,
Aloha Tigers,
Pagans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joe Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
The Remains,
Magma,
The Invisible,
UT,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sonic Youth,
Blossom Toes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Hood,
Inner City,
Ice-T,
Shoche,
Deakin,
The Smiths,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Suicide,
Maleditus Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thee Headcoats,
Iggy Pop,
Carl Craig,
PIL,
Soulsonic Force,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Rakim,
Amon Düül,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Panda Bear,
L. Decosne,
Kas Product,
Slick Rick,
Freddie Wadling,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
This Heat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wolf Eyes,
Hardrive,
Suburban Knight,
Morten Harket,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Severed Heads,
the Bar-Kays,
One Last Wish,
Letta Mbulu,
T.S.O.L.,
Alice Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
The Blues Magoos,
Graham Central Station,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.