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 El Salvador and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Andrew Hill to the electroclash 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
June Days,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O.,
Byron Stingily,
The Dirtbombs,
Metal Thangz,
Bootsy Collins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swell Maps,
Ultravox,
Junior Murvin,
Maurizio,
The Wake,
Eric Copeland,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nils Olav,
Pussy Galore,
Accadde A,
Cheater Slicks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Public Enemy,
Rosa Yemen,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
Unwound,
EPMD,
Henry Cow,
Drexciya,
Sun City Girls,
Jawbox,
The Slackers,
Mr. Review,
One Last Wish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Iggy Pop,
Intrusion,
Jeru the Damaja,
Reagan Youth,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Yaz,
Funkadelic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-101,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kerri Chandler,
Chris & Cosey,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
Index,
Blake Baxter,
The Standells,
Moss Icon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skriet,
The Misunderstood,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.