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 Bolivia and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Duran Duran,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Womack,
The Stooges,
Livin' Joy,
Clear Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Archie Shepp,
Subhumans,
Monolake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yaz,
The Sonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
These Immortal Souls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rakim,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
Qualms,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camouflage,
John Cale,
Aloha Tigers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Derrick May,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magma,
John Coltrane,
Half Japanese,
Toni Rubio,
Tommy Roe,
Tres Demented,
the Slits,
Tim Buckley,
Janne Schatter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deadbeat,
Sugar Minott,
Anakelly,
Sun Ra,
Procol Harum,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kaleidoscope,
Pere Ubu,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter and Kerry,
Jawbox,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.