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 Colombia and from New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Albert Ayler to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
Marc Almond,
Jerry's Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Joe Smooth,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
Q and Not U,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
Susan Cadogan,
Nils Olav,
Yaz,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Cell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rufus Thomas,
The Invisible,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter & Gordon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Sherman,
Hoover,
Cameo,
Grauzone,
Lou Christie,
The Saints,
U.S. Maple,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vainqueur,
JFA,
Darondo,
Echospace,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Doors,
Charles Mingus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Altered Images,
June Days,
Sparks,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Wake,
Girls At Our Best!,
CMW,
Pussy Galore,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Livin' Joy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Glenn Branca,
Soulsonic Force,
Minny Pops,
The Shadows of Knight,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.