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 Spain and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Maleditus Sound to the grunge 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
Deakin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
The Star Department,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
The Neon Judgement,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moody Blues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arcadia,
The Red Krayola,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Shadows of Knight,
Graham Central Station,
Eden Ahbez,
The Invisible,
The Monks,
The Slackers,
Radio Birdman,
Moebius,
Tears for Fears,
Vladislav Delay,
Chrome,
The Busters,
Aswad,
ABC,
Rekid,
Camberwell Now,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yusef Lateef,
Supertramp,
Livin' Joy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronan,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Flag,
Royal Trux,
Wings,
Kenny Larkin,
Dead Boys,
The Toasters,
The Real Kids,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
The Music Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
DNA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alice Coltrane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gichy Dan,
Masters at Work,
Lucky Dragons,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.