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 Ghana and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Marine Girls to the funk 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Slave,
Grauzone,
Deadbeat,
Pussy Galore,
The Beau Brummels,
Cameo,
Tubeway Army,
Smog,
X-Ray Spex,
The Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Marvin Gaye,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Das Ding,
Lalo Schifrin,
Andrew Hill,
Ten City,
The Blackbyrds,
Electric Prunes,
Alphaville,
Rites of Spring,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Trumans Water,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Glenn Branca,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
June of 44,
Joe Smooth,
Jeff Mills,
Junior Murvin,
Gong,
The Red Krayola,
Cal Tjader,
Nik Kershaw,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
Alton Ellis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter and Kerry,
Erasure,
Joyce Sims,
Marine Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Fraelich,
Babytalk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stereo Dub,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rod Modell,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tres Demented,
The Grass Roots,
Ponytail,
Henry Cow,
Blake Baxter,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.