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 Malaysia and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar 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 The Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
The New Christs,
Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aaron Thompson,
The Offenders,
Schoolly D,
Grauzone,
Magazine,
Supertramp,
Metal Thangz,
Make Up,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispy Ambulance,
K-Klass,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boredoms,
the Human League,
Grey Daturas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drexciya,
Lalann,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Lydon,
The Monks,
Agent Orange,
Silicon Teens,
Y Pants,
Henry Cow,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Litter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
E-Dancer,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sandy B,
Ornette Coleman,
Yellowson,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
R.M.O.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Ludus,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gap Band,
Scratch Acid,
Morten Harket,
Wire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Toni Rubio,
Minutemen,
Gang Starr,
AZ,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.