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 Niger and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 48th St. Collective to the techno 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Eden Ahbez,
Joey Negro,
Blake Baxter,
Magma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dirtbombs,
CMW,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiohead,
The Dead C,
Soft Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Eli Mardock,
Cybotron,
Fela Kuti,
Boz Scaggs,
Ten City,
Sam Rivers,
The Skatalites,
Fugazi,
Negative Approach,
Pere Ubu,
Don Cherry,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rapeman,
Charles Mingus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Masters at Work,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gap Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
Darondo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
The Zeros,
The Cowsills,
Suburban Knight,
Connie Case,
Parry Music,
Todd Terry,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pulsallama,
Mars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cluster,
Black Flag,
The Tremeloes,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Bowie,
Alphaville,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.