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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ice-T to the rap 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Procol Harum,
Ituana,
Anthony Braxton,
Barrington Levy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Malaria!,
Vainqueur,
The Skatalites,
Wally Richardson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slackers,
The J.B.'s,
Erykah Badu,
Scion,
Junior Murvin,
The Cowsills,
Dual Sessions,
Iggy Pop,
F. McDonald,
The Mojo Men,
Brothers Johnson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Music Machine,
Scientists,
Franke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
Goldenarms,
Yazoo,
Cameo,
Michelle Simonal,
Sandy B,
Gichy Dan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABC,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalann,
Roxette,
Popol Vuh,
Swell Maps,
D'Angelo,
Organ,
Fat Boys,
Faraquet,
Tubeway Army,
the Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
T.S.O.L.,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Quantec,
Gang of Four,
Public Enemy,
Bob Dylan,
EPMD,
The Toasters,
The Smiths,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.