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 Suriname and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar 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 Pet Shop Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Groovy Waters,
Reagan Youth,
Deakin,
Underground Resistance,
Interpol,
Jerry's Kids,
Bauhaus,
The Music Machine,
David Bowie,
Marvin Gaye,
the Soft Cell,
Q65,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Talk Talk,
Swell Maps,
Aural Exciters,
Henry Cow,
Harpers Bizarre,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Smoke,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Foxx,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sugar Minott,
Icehouse,
Quando Quango,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ice-T,
Buzzcocks,
Model 500,
Sound Behaviour,
Crime,
Ohio Players,
Basic Channel,
Brand Nubian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Duran Duran,
Flipper,
Jimmy McGriff,
Television,
Stiv Bators,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultra Naté,
Slave,
The Tremeloes,
In Retrospect,
Danielle Patucci,
the Germs,
Joy Division,
Pagans,
Fugazi,
China Crisis,
Wally Richardson,
Make Up,
Monolake,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dead C,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.