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 Egypt and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Womack to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Accadde A,
Cheater Slicks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mars,
Audionom,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang On A Can,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lower 48,
Ponytail,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Slits,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sight & Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skaos,
Urselle,
Reuben Wilson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Residents,
X-102,
The Neon Judgement,
Pulsallama,
Arab on Radar,
Marine Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric Copeland,
Freddie Wadling,
Tomorrow,
Kurtis Blow,
Rosa Yemen,
Ronnie Foster,
Moby Grape,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Easy Going,
Malaria!,
R.M.O.,
the Association,
The Walker Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Pantaleimon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cymande,
Toni Rubio,
June of 44,
The Smoke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joensuu 1685,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Magazine,
Camberwell Now,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.