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 Taiwan and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flamin' Groovies to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Pere Ubu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Young Rascals,
Stereo Dub,
Public Enemy,
Aswad,
The Gories,
Faraquet,
These Immortal Souls,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
DNA,
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
Fear,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fall,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bill Near,
Brick,
Jerry's Kids,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
Tubeway Army,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q65,
Popol Vuh,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Green,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Golliwogs,
Harry Pussy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hot Snakes,
kango's stein massive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Basic Channel,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
New Age Steppers,
Donny Hathaway,
The Move,
Eve St. Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Mars,
Mad Mike,
a-ha,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
Sound Behaviour,
Cal Tjader,
The Victims,
Bang On A Can,
The Smiths,
Pagans,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.