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 Papua New Guinea and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mission of Burma to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
F. McDonald,
The Sound,
Desert Stars,
Connie Case,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dead C,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Massinfluence,
Smog,
Goldenarms,
The Moody Blues,
the Normal,
Lakeside,
8 Eyed Spy,
Royal Trux,
Pantytec,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Vogues,
Lou Christie,
Marmalade,
Brick,
Bauhaus,
Robert Hood,
the Slits,
Piero Umiliani,
John Foxx,
A Certain Ratio,
Danielle Patucci,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
Man Parrish,
Johnny Clarke,
Sugar Minott,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wire,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Altered Images,
cv313,
Judy Mowatt,
DJ Style,
UT,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Red Krayola,
Audionom,
Derrick May,
Delon & Dalcan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jacques Brel,
Hot Snakes,
Visage,
Shoche,
The Tremeloes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
E-Dancer,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Wyatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.