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 Australia and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Arab on Radar to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones 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?
Pierre Henry,
The Busters,
The Happenings,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Judy Mowatt,
The Misunderstood,
Maleditus Sound,
E-Dancer,
Skaos,
The Count Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
In Retrospect,
Girls At Our Best!,
La Düsseldorf,
Young Marble Giants,
Bill Wells,
Ludus,
Oneida,
Delta 5,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jawbox,
Black Sheep,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sight & Sound,
Cluster,
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
Lower 48,
Barbara Tucker,
Ponytail,
Royal Trux,
Magma,
Fad Gadget,
The Gap Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fugs,
Siglo XX,
David Bowie,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dead Boys,
Brick,
Nik Kershaw,
Mark Hollis,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare,
Public Enemy,
The Monks,
Patti Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kerri Chandler,
Urselle,
Robert Wyatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cure,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.