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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ 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 Gil Scott Heron to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Royal Trux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Delta 5,
Matthew Bourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Buckinghams,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Chris & Cosey,
Sam Rivers,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
T. Rex,
Siglo XX,
Blossom Toes,
Fatback Band,
Bang On A Can,
Young Marble Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultra Naté,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lightning Bolt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Five Americans,
Loose Ends,
Unwound,
Eric Dolphy,
The Human League,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yazoo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Chrome,
Adolescents,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Barracudas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Khruangbin,
Gang Starr,
Charles Mingus,
Magazine,
Funkadelic,
Maleditus Sound,
Franke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Walker Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
DNA,
Josef K,
Andrew Hill,
Bob Dylan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Minnie Riperton,
Kurtis Blow,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fluxion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lakeside,
The Fugs,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.