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 Samoa and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Byron Stingily,
Glambeats Corp.,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Green,
The Remains,
X-102,
The Move,
Duran Duran,
The Last Poets,
Ronan,
Surgeon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stiv Bators,
Can,
X-101,
La Düsseldorf,
OOIOO,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lungfish,
the Human League,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Wyatt,
Dorothy Ashby,
Colin Newman,
Inner City,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Grass Roots,
Minny Pops,
Ornette Coleman,
T.S.O.L.,
Aloha Tigers,
Joensuu 1685,
Symarip,
Black Pus,
Moss Icon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mars,
Bootsy Collins,
Soul II Soul,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bronski Beat,
Cybotron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Q65,
Kurtis Blow,
Mo-Dettes,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
Ossler,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.