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 Georgia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Skarface to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Whodini,
Suicide,
The Zeros,
The Selecter,
The American Breed,
Ken Boothe,
Jawbox,
The Buckinghams,
Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare,
Bronski Beat,
Alice Coltrane,
Skriet,
Lower 48,
Iggy Pop,
Radiopuhelimet,
Altered Images,
James White and The Blacks,
Deadbeat,
the Slits,
Joe Finger,
Tres Demented,
Donny Hathaway,
Reagan Youth,
MDC,
Max Romeo,
Camberwell Now,
Average White Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
Eve St. Jones,
Lebanon Hanover,
Throbbing Gristle,
Depeche Mode,
Lucky Dragons,
Monolake,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tim Buckley,
Barrington Levy,
The Dirtbombs,
Bad Manners,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brass Construction,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
Aaron Thompson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hoover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Supertramp,
Brick,
The Five Americans,
Agitation Free,
Rites of Spring,
The Fugs,
The Pretty Things,
Technova,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.