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 Cuba and from Lille.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Gastr Del Sol to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Sex Pistols,
The Misunderstood,
New Age Steppers,
Jimmy McGriff,
DJ Style,
the Normal,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Con Funk Shun,
Stereo Dub,
Todd Rundgren,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boredoms,
Ohio Players,
The Vogues,
Man Parrish,
Eve St. Jones,
Moebius,
Rod Modell,
Roy Ayers,
The Cowsills,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cecil Taylor,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
Terrestrial Tones,
One Last Wish,
L. Decosne,
Khruangbin,
Vladislav Delay,
Unwound,
Tommy Roe,
Yusef Lateef,
Grauzone,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ituana,
Tim Buckley,
Skriet,
the Human League,
Nick Fraelich,
The Angels of Light,
Moss Icon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Metal Thangz,
Marine Girls,
Dark Day,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
E-Dancer,
The Stooges,
The Toasters,
Cheater Slicks,
The Saints,
Dennis Brown,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalann,
Circle Jerks,
MDC,
Minutemen,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.