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 Togo and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Alarm Clocks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
Drexciya,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ossler,
The Stooges,
Warsaw,
Q and Not U,
Ronan,
Robert Wyatt,
Ponytail,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Flag,
Saccharine Trust,
Amon Düül,
John Foxx,
Intrusion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Visage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bluetip,
Byron Stingily,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scrapy,
Oneida,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris Corsano,
Scratch Acid,
Negative Approach,
X-102,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Reed,
DJ Sneak,
Groovy Waters,
The Cowsills,
The Star Department,
Television,
The Durutti Column,
The Divine Comedy,
Marmalade,
Desert Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Amazonics,
New Order,
The Gories,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Monolake,
Fela Kuti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gastr Del Sol,
E-Dancer,
Skarface,
Massinfluence,
Toni Rubio,
Thompson Twins,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.