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 Malawi and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pierre Henry,
Lungfish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
A Certain Ratio,
Parry Music,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Mills,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Warsaw,
Flipper,
Dennis Brown,
Pulsallama,
Can,
Ponytail,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Human League,
LL Cool J,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barrington Levy,
Kayak,
Vainqueur,
Scion,
DJ Sneak,
Skaos,
Heaven 17,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
This Heat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Derrick May,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
Don Cherry,
Guru Guru,
The Stooges,
The Associates,
Grauzone,
The American Breed,
Tres Demented,
Barry Ungar,
Kurtis Blow,
PIL,
Brand Nubian,
John Holt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boredoms,
Johnny Clarke,
Althea and Donna,
T.S.O.L.,
These Immortal Souls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chrome,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric Dolphy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.