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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quadrant,
FM Einheit,
Swans,
Spoonie Gee,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABC,
Au Pairs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
Lower 48,
Y Pants,
Gabor Szabo,
Pylon,
Kurtis Blow,
Sex Pistols,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter and Kerry,
Index,
Funky Four + One,
Aloha Tigers,
Mission of Burma,
Scratch Acid,
Con Funk Shun,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Prince Buster,
Oneida,
New Age Steppers,
Flash Fearless,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
Albert Ayler,
Bill Near,
Gichy Dan,
Nas,
Terry Callier,
Silicon Teens,
The Five Americans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lungfish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Sherman,
The Motions,
the Sonics,
Kayak,
The Gun Club,
Zero Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Blossom Toes,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
JFA,
The Residents,
Iggy Pop,
Faraquet,
Television,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.