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 Qatar and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Susan Cadogan to the rap 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Velvet Underground,
Peter and Kerry,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Janne Schatter,
The Dead C,
Agent Orange,
Cabaret Voltaire,
cv313,
Talk Talk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lalann,
Mo-Dettes,
Minor Threat,
Public Enemy,
Todd Terry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Invisible,
Tom Boy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rosa Yemen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thee Headcoats,
Subhumans,
James White and The Blacks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Hood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Selecter,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Names,
Matthew Halsall,
Dawn Penn,
Interpol,
Stiv Bators,
Saccharine Trust,
Nik Kershaw,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Jacques Brel,
Ossler,
Ituana,
Fela Kuti,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
Von Mondo,
Yazoo,
The Red Krayola,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Excepter,
Suicide,
Sonic Youth,
Faraquet,
The Stooges,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.