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 Japan and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
The Count Five,
Visage,
Spandau Ballet,
Godley & Creme,
Model 500,
The Modern Lovers,
Judy Mowatt,
Eden Ahbez,
Barbara Tucker,
Grauzone,
Siglo XX,
Ronan,
Nirvana,
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
Negative Approach,
Robert Hood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blackbyrds,
F. McDonald,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Dolphy,
Alton Ellis,
The Mojo Men,
The Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
Bang On A Can,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liliput,
L. Decosne,
Roxy Music,
Ten City,
Monks,
Royal Trux,
The Move,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slave,
Maurizio,
Dead Boys,
The Busters,
Interpol,
Archie Shepp,
Rufus Thomas,
Connie Case,
Skaos,
The Electric Prunes,
The Beau Brummels,
Television,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Hill,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fluxion,
Quadrant,
Cal Tjader,
In Retrospect,
Eli Mardock,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.