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 Ethiopia 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Standells to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Goldenarms,
Deakin,
Todd Rundgren,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
EPMD,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
The Black Dice,
Wally Richardson,
Lalann,
Scratch Acid,
Davy DMX,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
Youth Brigade,
The Move,
Barrington Levy,
Angry Samoans,
In Retrospect,
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Susan Cadogan,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flash Fearless,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Raincoats,
The Golliwogs,
Sarah Menescal,
The Star Department,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lucky Dragons,
Motorama,
Stiv Bators,
kango's stein massive,
The Durutti Column,
8 Eyed Spy,
Adolescents,
Cluster,
World's Most,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
Mo-Dettes,
Dennis Brown,
Marmalade,
Josef K,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Terry Callier,
Roxy Music,
Zero Boys,
Desert Stars,
Kayak,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cymande,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.