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 Iran and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Moby Grape to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Eddi Front,
Roy Ayers,
Vainqueur,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hot Snakes,
Barrington Levy,
In Retrospect,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scan 7,
Basic Channel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
China Crisis,
Unrelated Segments,
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
Crooked Eye,
Severed Heads,
Ponytail,
Unwound,
Eric Copeland,
Newcleus,
L. Decosne,
John Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Robert Wyatt,
Erykah Badu,
Pole,
The Seeds,
La Düsseldorf,
Silicon Teens,
Warsaw,
Saccharine Trust,
Masters at Work,
OOIOO,
The Associates,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mummies,
Johnny Clarke,
Hasil Adkins,
Adolescents,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nico,
Monolake,
Khruangbin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
CMW,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quantec,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.