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 Poland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pylon,
Cluster,
Graham Central Station,
The Dirtbombs,
Mars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pagans,
Altered Images,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Sherman,
Nik Kershaw,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
MC5,
Shuggie Otis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deepchord,
Second Layer,
Donald Byrd,
Animal Collective,
Malaria!,
Pantytec,
Bobby Byrd,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Junior Murvin,
Q65,
Lalann,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ituana,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fluxion,
Tom Boy,
The Mummies,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aswad,
Buzzcocks,
Lyres,
Whodini,
The Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Motorama,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pulsallama,
KRS-One,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ornette Coleman,
Barbara Tucker,
Silicon Teens,
Country Teasers,
Scan 7,
Al Stewart,
MDC,
The Gories,
X-Ray Spex,
Arthur Verocai,
The Buckinghams,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cure,
Lou Reed,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.