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 Morocco and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw 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?
Second Layer,
X-Ray Spex,
The Durutti Column,
Swell Maps,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lightning Bolt,
Television Personalities,
Nils Olav,
Monolake,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Adolescents,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unrelated Segments,
John Holt,
Wire,
Grauzone,
Ultravox,
The Busters,
Letta Mbulu,
Kas Product,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eurythmics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Trumans Water,
Yusef Lateef,
Bootsy Collins,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Rhythm & Sound,
Visage,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxette,
Dark Day,
Kaleidoscope,
The Names,
The American Breed,
T. Rex,
Rosa Yemen,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pulsallama,
Avey Tare,
Qualms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alison Limerick,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Subhumans,
Sonic Youth,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fugs,
UT,
The Golliwogs,
Peter & Gordon,
Scratch Acid,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.