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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 The Fortunes to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
ABBA,
Flipper,
Nils Olav,
K-Klass,
JFA,
Roy Ayers,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Matthew Halsall,
Dark Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Janne Schatter,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Womack,
Lucky Dragons,
Crooked Eye,
The Electric Prunes,
Q and Not U,
The Cramps,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Country Teasers,
Sällskapet,
The Litter,
Sarah Menescal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick May,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dirtbombs,
The Doors,
Brothers Johnson,
Animal Collective,
The Zeros,
These Immortal Souls,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
The Raincoats,
The New Christs,
Mo-Dettes,
Goldenarms,
The Misunderstood,
Juan Atkins,
Mad Mike,
Von Mondo,
Los Fastidios,
Unrelated Segments,
Lungfish,
Rod Modell,
The Fall,
June of 44,
Ronan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Toasters,
New Age Steppers,
John Foxx,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dual Sessions,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.