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 Nicaragua 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Throbbing Gristle to the rap 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Dolphy,
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics,
The Barracudas,
The Cure,
Eve St. Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Can,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Rites of Spring,
Patti Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tears for Fears,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Agent Orange,
Janne Schatter,
Livin' Joy,
The J.B.'s,
Loose Ends,
Anthony Braxton,
Sight & Sound,
Minny Pops,
Fatback Band,
Inner City,
Mad Mike,
Gabor Szabo,
Michelle Simonal,
Wolf Eyes,
X-102,
New Order,
Kurtis Blow,
R.M.O.,
Little Man,
Oblivians,
The United States of America,
Dual Sessions,
Terry Callier,
Aaron Thompson,
FM Einheit,
The Fall,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Human League,
Mission of Burma,
Massinfluence,
Deakin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neil Young,
Lalann,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.