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 Kiribati and from Beijing.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro 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 John Holt to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Kaleidoscope,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang Green,
Archie Shepp,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Flag,
Slave,
Guru Guru,
F. McDonald,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Desert Stars,
Accadde A,
Tears for Fears,
Max Romeo,
Minor Threat,
Von Mondo,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Altered Images,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Womack,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pole,
Sarah Menescal,
Leonard Cohen,
Terry Callier,
Jeff Mills,
Sparks,
The Toasters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Outsiders,
Alison Limerick,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Names,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stereo Dub,
Motorama,
The Litter,
Arcadia,
B.T. Express,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
Charles Mingus,
Make Up,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
Model 500,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Red Krayola,
Echospace,
Don Cherry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.