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 Samoa and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the rock 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Intrusion,
Brass Construction,
Dark Day,
Ken Boothe,
Negative Approach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Red Krayola,
David McCallum,
Ornette Coleman,
John Cale,
Supertramp,
Niagra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Doors,
Amon Düül,
Marc Almond,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
DJ Sneak,
Hot Snakes,
Depeche Mode,
the Slits,
Rapeman,
Tom Boy,
Blake Baxter,
Fela Kuti,
Susan Cadogan,
Goldenarms,
Black Pus,
Faust,
Panda Bear,
James White and The Blacks,
Hardrive,
Absolute Body Control,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
Kenny Larkin,
Josef K,
Hoover,
The Smiths,
Vladislav Delay,
Mark Hollis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Television Personalities,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eddi Front,
Youth Brigade,
The Litter,
Banda Bassotti,
China Crisis,
Quando Quango,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.