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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 linndrum 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 Crispy Ambulance to the dance 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Donald Byrd,
the Sonics,
OOIOO,
Sällskapet,
Scott Walker,
Joyce Sims,
The Cramps,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arthur Verocai,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Babytalk,
The Invisible,
Ronan,
Marvin Gaye,
the Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
Smog,
Funky Four + One,
Bad Manners,
Joey Negro,
Connie Case,
Nick Fraelich,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Drexciya,
Soft Machine,
PIL,
Joe Smooth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Shoche,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Leonard Cohen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Monolake,
Niagra,
June Days,
the Bar-Kays,
Essential Logic,
Harmonia,
Gang of Four,
Crooked Eye,
Mandrill,
Hot Snakes,
The J.B.'s,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gories,
Inner City,
Bob Dylan,
The Associates,
The Cowsills,
Todd Terry,
Can,
Nas,
Alton Ellis,
Deakin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Max Romeo,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.