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 Dominica and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin 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 Albert Ayler to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Joensuu 1685,
AZ,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Derrick May,
Theoretical Girls,
John Coltrane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Swell Maps,
R.M.O.,
Gong,
The Selecter,
Tres Demented,
The Evens,
Slick Rick,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Neon Judgement,
The Saints,
Roxy Music,
Visage,
Oblivians,
The Buckinghams,
James White and The Blacks,
the Association,
Darondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Los Fastidios,
Audionom,
Althea and Donna,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bauhaus,
Silicon Teens,
Alton Ellis,
CMW,
Toni Rubio,
Steve Hackett,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Black Dice,
DJ Sneak,
Bill Near,
Judy Mowatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Isaac Hayes,
Pagans,
Agitation Free,
The Sonics,
Cymande,
Surgeon,
Joy Division,
Deepchord,
Kurtis Blow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cameo,
Dark Day,
Kenny Larkin,
Magma,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.