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 Syria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Procol Harum 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Marine Girls,
Arab on Radar,
The Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mandrill,
Black Flag,
The Kinks,
Minnie Riperton,
DJ Sneak,
Harry Pussy,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terry Callier,
Sandy B,
Steve Hackett,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Darondo,
Reuben Wilson,
Joy Division,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fuzztones,
JFA,
Franke,
Freddie Wadling,
Absolute Body Control,
Grey Daturas,
Byron Stingily,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arthur Verocai,
Jacques Brel,
Trumans Water,
Deadbeat,
Cybotron,
Dead Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Basic Channel,
Theoretical Girls,
Wally Richardson,
UT,
Nation of Ulysses,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
Bobby Womack,
Y Pants,
Spoonie Gee,
Schoolly D,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Porter Ricks,
John Foxx,
10cc,
Prince Buster,
Duran Duran,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
Ralphi Rosario,
Grauzone,
Warren Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.