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 Algeria and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Minutemen to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Black Sheep,
Bad Manners,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
The Index,
Jeff Lynne,
Technova,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Depeche Mode,
Morten Harket,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
David McCallum,
Kayak,
Symarip,
Soulsonic Force,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Stooges,
The Toasters,
The Happenings,
Matthew Bourne,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
Patti Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moleskins,
The Pretty Things,
Nico,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pere Ubu,
The Motions,
Idris Muhammad,
Spoonie Gee,
Eurythmics,
Gichy Dan,
Sight & Sound,
The Smoke,
Joey Negro,
Davy DMX,
the Association,
Main Source,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Von Mondo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Shoche,
Panda Bear,
John Foxx,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
JFA,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong,
Interpol,
Rotary Connection,
Joe Finger,
Los Fastidios,
Lalann,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.