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 New Zealand and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Goldenarms to the punk 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Selecter,
Faraquet,
Monks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cecil Taylor,
Lower 48,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rapeman,
DJ Sneak,
Deepchord,
Section 25,
Mandrill,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Letta Mbulu,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
The Invisible,
Niagra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pylon,
Second Layer,
Spandau Ballet,
Rekid,
Juan Atkins,
Little Man,
Icehouse,
The Associates,
Visage,
The Remains,
Aaron Thompson,
Ten City,
Aural Exciters,
Metal Thangz,
Moebius,
AZ,
Ken Boothe,
Fela Kuti,
PIL,
Kool Moe Dee,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall,
Donny Hathaway,
Circle Jerks,
Steve Hackett,
Scratch Acid,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Excepter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arab on Radar,
Iggy Pop,
ABBA,
Drexciya,
The Neon Judgement,
The J.B.'s,
The New Christs,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.