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 Barbados and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pulsallama to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moby Grape,
Au Pairs,
The Dirtbombs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Howard Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Duran Duran,
The Durutti Column,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Knickerbockers,
Hot Snakes,
Deadbeat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Velvet Underground,
Skarface,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Victims,
Nik Kershaw,
Stiv Bators,
Warren Ellis,
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
Jeff Mills,
Qualms,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxy Music,
Simply Red,
Don Cherry,
Metal Thangz,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
FM Einheit,
Gong,
Lalo Schifrin,
Altered Images,
Japan,
Darondo,
Flipper,
Roger Hodgson,
Nas,
Susan Cadogan,
The Doors,
Sister Nancy,
The Fire Engines,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jandek,
Sugar Minott,
Kas Product,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bauhaus,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.