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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Soul II Soul to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
The Barracudas,
a-ha,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blackbyrds,
Nik Kershaw,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun Ra,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nils Olav,
Malaria!,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eli Mardock,
Swell Maps,
The Neon Judgement,
Fat Boys,
Procol Harum,
The Birthday Party,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
The Leaves,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bob Dylan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
L. Decosne,
The Saints,
Hot Snakes,
Suburban Knight,
Parry Music,
Ten City,
The Tremeloes,
Black Bananas,
John Foxx,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mad Mike,
Soft Cell,
Quantec,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eric Copeland,
Amon Düül,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Pagans,
Joy Division,
The Knickerbockers,
Dead Boys,
The Zeros,
Blossom Toes,
David Bowie,
Fad Gadget,
Make Up,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
Faraquet,
Tim Buckley,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.