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 Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Michael McDonald 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
These Immortal Souls,
Sixth Finger,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
Deakin,
The Names,
Robert Wyatt,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
T. Rex,
Flash Fearless,
Eric Dolphy,
Kayak,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crime,
In Retrospect,
Eden Ahbez,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grey Daturas,
The Wake,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantytec,
The Misunderstood,
Godley & Creme,
Chris Corsano,
Erykah Badu,
Metal Thangz,
Television,
Wally Richardson,
Schoolly D,
Agent Orange,
Fad Gadget,
Suicide,
The Motions,
Jacob Miller,
Kaleidoscope,
Loose Ends,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eli Mardock,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rhythm & Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scientists,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
Silicon Teens,
Index,
Kenny Larkin,
The Standells,
8 Eyed Spy,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
Michelle Simonal,
Average White Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joe Smooth,
Radio Birdman,
Arthur Verocai,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.