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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Clear Light to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Knickerbockers,
Unrelated Segments,
Cal Tjader,
Whodini,
Young Marble Giants,
Silicon Teens,
Archie Shepp,
Vainqueur,
10cc,
Sam Rivers,
Goldenarms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marine Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
Max Romeo,
Jacques Brel,
Eric Dolphy,
David McCallum,
Bobby Sherman,
Glenn Branca,
Minny Pops,
The Associates,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Durutti Column,
JFA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
cv313,
The Monks,
Wings,
Barry Ungar,
Sound Behaviour,
Be Bop Deluxe,
KRS-One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ituana,
Brass Construction,
Warren Ellis,
The Slits,
Lalann,
Franke,
Reagan Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cluster,
Angry Samoans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jawbox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Suburban Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hasil Adkins,
Masters at Work,
Accadde A,
Drive Like Jehu,
Livin' Joy,
Procol Harum,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.