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 South Africa and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Index to the grunge 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Robert Görl,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Pus,
PIL,
New Age Steppers,
Camberwell Now,
Dual Sessions,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sandy B,
The Saints,
Inner City,
The Count Five,
Black Flag,
Model 500,
Funkadelic,
Heaven 17,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Silicon Teens,
Liliput,
John Holt,
Cymande,
The Fortunes,
Los Fastidios,
Absolute Body Control,
Bronski Beat,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gun Club,
Gang Gang Dance,
Juan Atkins,
the Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scott Walker,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fear,
DNA,
Eric Dolphy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gladiators,
Essential Logic,
The Fire Engines,
Wire,
Hashim,
Eric Copeland,
Kayak,
Franke,
Ornette Coleman,
The Associates,
Boredoms,
John Cale,
Banda Bassotti,
Lungfish,
Colin Newman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swans,
The Smoke,
Nas,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.