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 Portland.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Rites of Spring to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
CMW,
Albert Ayler,
L. Decosne,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Von Mondo,
the Germs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Agent Orange,
Bauhaus,
Spandau Ballet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moody Blues,
New Age Steppers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lindisfarne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Freddie Wadling,
Banda Bassotti,
Crime,
Michelle Simonal,
Jawbox,
Delon & Dalcan,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Lynne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Franke,
Can,
Model 500,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Starr,
Eric Copeland,
Letta Mbulu,
Alice Coltrane,
Little Man,
JFA,
Fat Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
MDC,
Funky Four + One,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
The Neon Judgement,
The Red Krayola,
Bang On A Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brick,
The Cowsills,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
Janne Schatter,
Boredoms,
Don Cherry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kas Product,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.