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 Denmark and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 Severed Heads to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Moon,
Vainqueur,
Severed Heads,
The Leaves,
Lower 48,
Sexual Harrassment,
CMW,
Tommy Roe,
Dead Boys,
Gang Starr,
Robert Wyatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Man Parrish,
Quadrant,
The Velvet Underground,
Au Pairs,
Bang On A Can,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
The New Christs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Vogues,
Althea and Donna,
the Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
OOIOO,
The Knickerbockers,
Con Funk Shun,
Television,
Warren Ellis,
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
Tom Boy,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
D'Angelo,
Sun City Girls,
Todd Terry,
Skaos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang of Four,
The American Breed,
Bobby Byrd,
The Toasters,
cv313,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tropical Tobacco,
L. Decosne,
Shuggie Otis,
Swell Maps,
Bluetip,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pierre Henry,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.