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 Tonga and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
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 güiro 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 Warren Ellis to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
David McCallum,
Desert Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deepchord,
The Black Dice,
The Gun Club,
Minnie Riperton,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Byrd,
John Foxx,
Liliput,
The Searchers,
Peter and Kerry,
Bad Manners,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Moon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Terry Callier,
Radiohead,
The Mojo Men,
Whodini,
The Fire Engines,
the Human League,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cowsills,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brick,
Youth Brigade,
Joy Division,
Wally Richardson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sight & Sound,
Porter Ricks,
The Moleskins,
Scan 7,
Tropical Tobacco,
Michelle Simonal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ossler,
Cheater Slicks,
Patti Smith,
Scrapy,
Eden Ahbez,
Los Fastidios,
KRS-One,
Newcleus,
Quadrant,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Christie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bluetip,
Ice-T,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.