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 Macedonia and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sun Ra 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flipper,
Mr. Review,
Black Moon,
Eric Copeland,
The Gap Band,
The Golliwogs,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
Minny Pops,
Yellowson,
Ultra Naté,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
Bill Near,
EPMD,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Tremeloes,
The Dead C,
X-102,
Max Romeo,
Ituana,
Con Funk Shun,
Cal Tjader,
The Trojans,
Nirvana,
The Five Americans,
Fugazi,
Sarah Menescal,
Godley & Creme,
Toni Rubio,
The Fall,
Aaron Thompson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cluster,
Rakim,
Sun City Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
MC5,
Letta Mbulu,
Gabor Szabo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
PIL,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Franke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonny Sharrock,
New Order,
The Beau Brummels,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Altered Images,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.