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 Swaziland and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Henry Cow to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Agent Orange,
Minutemen,
Sound Behaviour,
Bush Tetras,
Swell Maps,
Josef K,
The Wake,
Procol Harum,
Von Mondo,
The Neon Judgement,
Au Pairs,
Black Bananas,
Zero Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bauhaus,
Scratch Acid,
Tubeway Army,
The Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare,
Japan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barrington Levy,
U.S. Maple,
The Misunderstood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stiv Bators,
Isaac Hayes,
The Leaves,
The Golliwogs,
Make Up,
Easy Going,
The Beau Brummels,
Byron Stingily,
Marine Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
MDC,
Joy Division,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mummies,
The New Christs,
Toni Rubio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Freddie Wadling,
The Shadows of Knight,
Desert Stars,
Deakin,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.