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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Young Marble Giants to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Bang On A Can,
Warren Ellis,
The Black Dice,
Joensuu 1685,
B.T. Express,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Womack,
Harmonia,
the Human League,
Eddi Front,
Das Ding,
Arcadia,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jandek,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Silicon Teens,
Charles Mingus,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hashim,
Metal Thangz,
Mo-Dettes,
Tres Demented,
Ten City,
Minor Threat,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Smoke,
Hasil Adkins,
Mark Hollis,
Magma,
Carl Craig,
Soft Machine,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeff Lynne,
Jacques Brel,
The Techniques,
Anakelly,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Halsall,
The Dead C,
Arthur Verocai,
Easy Going,
Technova,
Wire,
Organ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
Supertramp,
D'Angelo,
Mission of Burma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kaleidoscope,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.