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 Netherlands and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Television Personalities to the rock 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. 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?
Prince Buster,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Stooges,
Mandrill,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Technova,
the Sonics,
L. Decosne,
Camberwell Now,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rites of Spring,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cymande,
UT,
Joey Negro,
The Tremeloes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gong,
China Crisis,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Human League,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gun Club,
Anthony Braxton,
The Happenings,
Fluxion,
Ludus,
Soft Cell,
Half Japanese,
Thompson Twins,
H. Thieme,
Monolake,
Lyres,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
The Count Five,
Brass Construction,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aswad,
Wolf Eyes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Slave,
Rhythm & Sound,
Todd Terry,
Radiohead,
Agitation Free,
Marvin Gaye,
Alice Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mo-Dettes,
The Pretty Things,
Lindisfarne,
Malaria!,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.