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 Netherlands 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Los Fastidios to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Aswad,
the Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick May,
Malaria!,
Peter and Kerry,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Toasters,
Steve Hackett,
Lightning Bolt,
Derrick Morgan,
David McCallum,
Reuben Wilson,
Crash Course in Science,
Make Up,
The Evens,
The Associates,
Gil Scott Heron,
Frankie Knuckles,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers,
Symarip,
Monks,
Fela Kuti,
The Stooges,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
LL Cool J,
The Neon Judgement,
Swans,
Duran Duran,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cowsills,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-101,
Brick,
Cameo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tommy Roe,
The Gories,
Mad Mike,
Los Fastidios,
John Holt,
The Searchers,
Hardrive,
Motorama,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The American Breed,
The Doors,
Archie Shepp,
Idris Muhammad,
Outsiders,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
Model 500,
Rotary Connection,
Trumans Water,
Mars,
The Skatalites,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.