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 San Marino and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Marine Girls to the disco 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Desert Stars,
The Gladiators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kurtis Blow,
Joey Negro,
The Dirtbombs,
the Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül,
Crash Course in Science,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scrapy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Matthew Halsall,
Hot Snakes,
Gabor Szabo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Can,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald,
The Dead C,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Pus,
Popol Vuh,
Suburban Knight,
DNA,
Lou Christie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fatback Band,
Inner City,
Black Bananas,
The Searchers,
Neil Young,
DJ Style,
The Trojans,
Country Teasers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Smiths,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deadbeat,
Steve Hackett,
cv313,
Ronnie Foster,
Faraquet,
June of 44,
The Pop Group,
Roger Hodgson,
Ken Boothe,
Simply Red,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cure,
Altered Images,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.