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 Kiribati and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sarah Menescal 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Warsaw,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Byrd,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Wells,
Erasure,
T. Rex,
Connie Case,
The Monochrome Set,
Flipper,
LL Cool J,
Camouflage,
The Fuzztones,
Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
The Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
CMW,
Von Mondo,
Interpol,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter and Kerry,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
Anthony Braxton,
Aswad,
Ultimate Spinach,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
Barbara Tucker,
Franke,
Black Moon,
The Leaves,
Pulsallama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Index,
Organ,
Make Up,
Siglo XX,
Main Source,
Bobby Hutcherson,
cv313,
Grey Daturas,
Vainqueur,
Wings,
Camberwell Now,
Stereo Dub,
Lyres,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Trumans Water,
Cymande,
Television Personalities,
Lungfish,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.