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 Rwanda and from Spokane.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brass Construction,
Piero Umiliani,
Inner City,
Vainqueur,
John Cale,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Royal Trux,
Maleditus Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
E-Dancer,
The Modern Lovers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Finger,
The Last Poets,
Cecil Taylor,
Fear,
Anakelly,
The Real Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
Scan 7,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
B.T. Express,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Duran Duran,
the Germs,
Erykah Badu,
Ken Boothe,
Rufus Thomas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pierre Henry,
Blossom Toes,
Interpol,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Funkadelic,
Drive Like Jehu,
Angry Samoans,
Hoover,
Aswad,
The Star Department,
Y Pants,
Prince Buster,
Unwound,
The Leaves,
Donny Hathaway,
Vladislav Delay,
Jacob Miller,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smoke,
Neil Young,
Charles Mingus,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.