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 France and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the jazz 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
The Monks,
Vainqueur,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brothers Johnson,
New York Dolls,
The Martian,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oneida,
The Human League,
Little Man,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dirtbombs,
Chris & Cosey,
Wolf Eyes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Associates,
The Tremeloes,
Accadde A,
H. Thieme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Los Fastidios,
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Style,
The Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mojo Men,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Sherman,
Nik Kershaw,
Mark Hollis,
Negative Approach,
Electric Prunes,
The Beau Brummels,
Joensuu 1685,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
Stiv Bators,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Almond,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Busters,
Jawbox,
OOIOO,
Saccharine Trust,
June Days,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Lydon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zapp,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
Radiohead,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
L. Decosne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
X-102,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.