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 Netherlands and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jacques Brel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
The Stooges,
Scott Walker,
Donald Byrd,
Bang On A Can,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang of Four,
Amon Düül II,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
Anthony Braxton,
X-101,
Jawbox,
Crash Course in Science,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
Max Romeo,
Sister Nancy,
Black Bananas,
The Misunderstood,
Chris Corsano,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
Lindisfarne,
Angry Samoans,
Alphaville,
Throbbing Gristle,
Don Cherry,
John Cale,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Matthew Halsall,
Dead Boys,
EPMD,
The Fugs,
Fela Kuti,
Tears for Fears,
The Count Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Aural Exciters,
Malaria!,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Offenders,
Fugazi,
Nick Fraelich,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Foxx,
China Crisis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Goldenarms,
Half Japanese,
Kenny Larkin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.