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 Israel and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Sonics to the crunk 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Infiniti,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fad Gadget,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rekid,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dave Gahan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
The Fortunes,
The Standells,
Desert Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Skatalites,
Barbara Tucker,
OOIOO,
The Barracudas,
X-101,
AZ,
The Busters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rites of Spring,
Boz Scaggs,
Reuben Wilson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mission of Burma,
Eurythmics,
Ultravox,
China Crisis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Connie Case,
Cluster,
Silicon Teens,
Pylon,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
The Toasters,
Can,
Circle Jerks,
Newcleus,
Don Cherry,
Eric Copeland,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deakin,
Adolescents,
The Golliwogs,
Lucky Dragons,
Bad Manners,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sugar Minott,
The Neon Judgement,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.