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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brass Construction to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
David Axelrod,
Pylon,
The New Christs,
June Days,
Adolescents,
Ituana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Section 25,
The Mojo Men,
The Neon Judgement,
Alison Limerick,
Brass Construction,
Nik Kershaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Graham Central Station,
The Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nico,
Dark Day,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
Ludus,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crime,
Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chris & Cosey,
Henry Cow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dave Gahan,
Ronnie Foster,
Carl Craig,
Minor Threat,
Arab on Radar,
Pagans,
Minny Pops,
Skaos,
Warsaw,
Maleditus Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
The Smiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Wake,
Sixth Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
Eli Mardock,
Nas,
Smog,
Excepter,
10cc,
The Smoke,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.