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 Tonga and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Slave to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Suburban Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone,
Bob Dylan,
Vainqueur,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
David Axelrod,
Deadbeat,
Aural Exciters,
Ludus,
the Germs,
Wally Richardson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronnie Foster,
Pantaleimon,
New York Dolls,
the Human League,
Buzzcocks,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The American Breed,
Kas Product,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Liliput,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gladiators,
Ultra Naté,
Aloha Tigers,
Warsaw,
Barry Ungar,
Dawn Penn,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dead C,
John Cale,
Man Parrish,
Tears for Fears,
Lightning Bolt,
Pylon,
The Victims,
The Offenders,
Little Man,
Brothers Johnson,
Laurel Aitken,
Judy Mowatt,
Guru Guru,
Sällskapet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pussy Galore,
Delta 5,
Scrapy,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Average White Band,
Jandek,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.