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 Niger and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the rap 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
a-ha,
Ten City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Delta 5,
Erasure,
Connie Case,
New Age Steppers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
Rapeman,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Organ,
Fat Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Skriet,
Silicon Teens,
X-Ray Spex,
Accadde A,
Kayak,
Lungfish,
Dead Boys,
Nick Fraelich,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Buckinghams,
the Association,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soft Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Public Enemy,
Warsaw,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare,
Wolf Eyes,
Morten Harket,
Country Teasers,
Jeff Mills,
Sixth Finger,
Sugar Minott,
Eddi Front,
Black Pus,
Neu!,
Scratch Acid,
Vladislav Delay,
The Slits,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
KRS-One,
Sex Pistols,
Al Stewart,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantaleimon,
The Mojo Men,
Cal Tjader,
Sandy B,
Loose Ends,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.