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 Tunisia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Beau Brummels to the grime 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Scan 7,
Barry Ungar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Prince Buster,
OOIOO,
Lalann,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young,
Althea and Donna,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
F. McDonald,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Womack,
Lindisfarne,
The Fuzztones,
Mr. Review,
Goldenarms,
MC5,
Harmonia,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
World's Most,
Bush Tetras,
Pagans,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Ken Boothe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nas,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cramps,
Zero Boys,
Eurythmics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The J.B.'s,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Index,
Sex Pistols,
Hardrive,
Hoover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cal Tjader,
Shoche,
Quantec,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eve St. Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
Lower 48,
Fugazi,
The Real Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Searchers,
Suburban Knight,
Bauhaus,
Unwound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Holt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.