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 Jordan and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord 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 Knickerbockers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Interpol,
Tomorrow,
Scratch Acid,
Neu!,
Visage,
LL Cool J,
John Coltrane,
The Fire Engines,
Althea and Donna,
Quadrant,
Agent Orange,
Cybotron,
Sugar Minott,
Joe Finger,
Angry Samoans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mr. Review,
The Invisible,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Drexciya,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yaz,
Soft Machine,
Lungfish,
Clear Light,
Camberwell Now,
Prince Buster,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Q65,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oneida,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marine Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hardrive,
The Gories,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scientists,
Derrick Morgan,
John Cale,
The Martian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Motorama,
Bizarre Inc.,
Organ,
Slick Rick,
Bill Near,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Selecter,
Harry Pussy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camouflage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Freddie Wadling,
Outsiders,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.