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 Namibia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Don Cherry to the punk 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
The Birthday Party,
Das Ding,
8 Eyed Spy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Half Japanese,
Make Up,
Bill Near,
Terry Callier,
Sarah Menescal,
The Smoke,
Kenny Larkin,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Move,
Hardrive,
Eric Dolphy,
Fear,
Electric Prunes,
T.S.O.L.,
DNA,
David McCallum,
Unrelated Segments,
Skarface,
Andrew Hill,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
R.M.O.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quadrant,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Pretty Things,
10cc,
Spandau Ballet,
U.S. Maple,
Max Romeo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Liliput,
Goldenarms,
Simply Red,
Brick,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cal Tjader,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Talk Talk,
The Doobie Brothers,
Morten Harket,
Fela Kuti,
Cheater Slicks,
Eden Ahbez,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalann,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
OOIOO,
Whodini,
Tears for Fears,
Barrington Levy,
The Residents,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Saccharine Trust,
Siglo XX,
Rekid,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.