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 Guinea and from Calgary.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pylon to the dance 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Adolescents,
Fela Kuti,
Sandy B,
Pagans,
The Gap Band,
The Divine Comedy,
the Germs,
Joensuu 1685,
Moss Icon,
Maleditus Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
K-Klass,
John Lydon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Saccharine Trust,
Outsiders,
Q and Not U,
Deepchord,
The Pop Group,
Junior Murvin,
Make Up,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
Patti Smith,
New York Dolls,
Ponytail,
Schoolly D,
Lucky Dragons,
Rod Modell,
Essential Logic,
Banda Bassotti,
Infiniti,
Gong,
The Walker Brothers,
Aaron Thompson,
Spoonie Gee,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minutemen,
Darondo,
Marine Girls,
Pole,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Animal Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nick Fraelich,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sight & Sound,
The Zeros,
Reagan Youth,
Amazonics,
Roger Hodgson,
The Associates,
Man Parrish,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.