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 Cambodia and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Chris & Cosey to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Kurtis Blow,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
Television Personalities,
Rufus Thomas,
Joe Finger,
Quantec,
Fat Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Clear Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
Los Fastidios,
The Slits,
Underground Resistance,
Model 500,
Quadrant,
Moss Icon,
Funkadelic,
the Soft Cell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
Henry Cow,
Johnny Clarke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q and Not U,
Graham Central Station,
Amazonics,
LL Cool J,
Banda Bassotti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nils Olav,
Blossom Toes,
The Fall,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
The Trojans,
MC5,
Scrapy,
Zapp,
Harry Pussy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stereo Dub,
Lindisfarne,
Reuben Wilson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roxette,
Tubeway Army,
The Modern Lovers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Electric Prunes,
Thee Headcoats,
John Holt,
Con Funk Shun,
Sandy B,
Main Source,
Fort Wilson Riot,
H. Thieme,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.