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 South Sudan and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fela Kuti to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pretty Things,
The Black Dice,
Section 25,
Absolute Body Control,
Stiv Bators,
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Teasers,
The Slackers,
The Fuzztones,
The Leaves,
Bluetip,
The Neon Judgement,
L. Decosne,
Lindisfarne,
Matthew Bourne,
Pagans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Max Romeo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mission of Burma,
Althea and Donna,
Buzzcocks,
Rapeman,
This Heat,
The Wake,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Almond,
Quando Quango,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Urselle,
Aswad,
The Toasters,
Main Source,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Ten City,
Alton Ellis,
Y Pants,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rites of Spring,
Supertramp,
Spoonie Gee,
Von Mondo,
Flamin' Groovies,
The United States of America,
Colin Newman,
Duran Duran,
The Velvet Underground,
Model 500,
Funky Four + One,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ken Boothe,
the Slits,
Surgeon,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.