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 Somalia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rap 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Ohio Players,
Derrick Morgan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lakeside,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Second Layer,
the Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
The Motions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
Darondo,
The Toasters,
Cymande,
Patti Smith,
Trumans Water,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eden Ahbez,
Pylon,
Eric Copeland,
The Smiths,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Judy Mowatt,
Surgeon,
Symarip,
Agent Orange,
Skriet,
Graham Central Station,
Rakim,
Marc Almond,
Radiohead,
Mission of Burma,
The Gories,
Anthony Braxton,
Pagans,
Amon Düül II,
Grauzone,
Terry Callier,
A Certain Ratio,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
Soft Machine,
Scrapy,
Laurel Aitken,
Motorama,
Lalo Schifrin,
Niagra,
These Immortal Souls,
Wasted Youth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Can,
Gang of Four,
Deepchord,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells,
Eurythmics,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.