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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin 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 Nas to the punk 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Terry Callier,
Robert Wyatt,
Barbara Tucker,
ABC,
Junior Murvin,
EPMD,
The Remains,
Nirvana,
Roy Ayers,
Slick Rick,
Audionom,
Sam Rivers,
Archie Shepp,
Underground Resistance,
Lakeside,
Accadde A,
Jawbox,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gabor Szabo,
Section 25,
The Fuzztones,
Danielle Patucci,
MC5,
Thee Headcoats,
Desert Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Bananas,
Robert Görl,
Ultra Naté,
Boz Scaggs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Barracudas,
Los Fastidios,
Suburban Knight,
The Music Machine,
June of 44,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camberwell Now,
X-101,
The Knickerbockers,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Visage,
The Tremeloes,
Minnie Riperton,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quadrant,
48th St. Collective,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
The Moleskins,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Coltrane,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.