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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Thee Headcoats to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Crooked Eye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Das Ding,
Soul II Soul,
Index,
Sixth Finger,
The Busters,
Motorama,
The Evens,
Technova,
Roxy Music,
The Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crime,
Khruangbin,
Lakeside,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Coltrane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tres Demented,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Selecter,
Todd Rundgren,
Deakin,
Blake Baxter,
Flash Fearless,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scion,
Mad Mike,
Robert Hood,
New Order,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neu!,
Donny Hathaway,
Rhythm & Sound,
Shoche,
Supertramp,
48th St. Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
The Count Five,
The Cure,
Mandrill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funkadelic,
The Seeds,
Hardrive,
Michelle Simonal,
cv313,
Ronan,
Arcadia,
Stetsasonic,
Deadbeat,
Pussy Galore,
The Raincoats,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bush Tetras,
Ludus,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.