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 Burundi and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Deakin,
T. Rex,
Slick Rick,
Masters at Work,
Bill Near,
Robert Wyatt,
Schoolly D,
Shuggie Otis,
Derrick May,
the Normal,
The Residents,
Minutemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cymande,
Royal Trux,
Main Source,
The Leaves,
The Cosmic Jokers,
R.M.O.,
Dark Day,
Gang of Four,
PIL,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aswad,
The Associates,
The Blues Magoos,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Swell Maps,
New Order,
Ultravox,
The Index,
Chrome,
Fugazi,
Soulsonic Force,
Joey Negro,
Dual Sessions,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sight & Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Starr,
Dave Gahan,
Metal Thangz,
The Dirtbombs,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Darondo,
Anthony Braxton,
JFA,
LL Cool J,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Andrew Hill,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
Underground Resistance,
Erykah Badu,
Jandek,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.