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 Bangladesh and from Tokyo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Don Cherry to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Royal Trux,
Steve Hackett,
Gichy Dan,
Fluxion,
Tubeway Army,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bad Manners,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Motions,
Arcadia,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Funky Four + One,
Mandrill,
Jandek,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Zero Boys,
Q65,
Skriet,
Eric Dolphy,
Maurizio,
Liliput,
Kayak,
Faraquet,
The Blues Magoos,
Lindisfarne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deadbeat,
Hoover,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dead C,
Ultra Naté,
Tears for Fears,
Metal Thangz,
ABC,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
Massinfluence,
Das Ding,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Lightning Bolt,
Marine Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Drexciya,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fatback Band,
F. McDonald,
Connie Case,
Barrington Levy,
Symarip,
Ten City,
Simply Red,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.