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 Colombia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Deakin to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Chris Corsano,
Mad Mike,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lungfish,
John Holt,
Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed,
Alison Limerick,
Radio Birdman,
Nirvana,
The Gories,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stereo Dub,
June of 44,
Camouflage,
Cymande,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arcadia,
Wasted Youth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sight & Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Scientists,
Das Ding,
the Human League,
the Germs,
Ronnie Foster,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sarah Menescal,
Excepter,
Lakeside,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Divine Comedy,
The Invisible,
Sound Behaviour,
Silicon Teens,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
The Neon Judgement,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Swans,
Monolake,
Newcleus,
Black Pus,
Desert Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
Fear,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.