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 Comoros and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
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 Holger Czukay 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 Sun Ra to the grunge 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms 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?
Q65,
Freddie Wadling,
Swell Maps,
Tres Demented,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roxy Music,
Alison Limerick,
Pharoah Sanders,
Anakelly,
Cluster,
Erykah Badu,
Lungfish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jesper Dahlback,
New York Dolls,
Bush Tetras,
Donald Byrd,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed,
Josef K,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Das Ding,
The Buckinghams,
Pole,
KRS-One,
Henry Cow,
Scion,
Jacob Miller,
The Divine Comedy,
Radiohead,
The Knickerbockers,
DNA,
Country Teasers,
Scrapy,
The Victims,
Camberwell Now,
Adolescents,
Laurel Aitken,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Moleskins,
F. McDonald,
Bizarre Inc.,
Buzzcocks,
Silicon Teens,
The Standells,
Soul II Soul,
Excepter,
Brass Construction,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Selecter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
The Mojo Men,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Remains,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Almond,
The Trojans,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.