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 Andorra and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
F. McDonald,
Hot Snakes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Seeds,
Icehouse,
The Moody Blues,
Neu!,
Davy DMX,
New York Dolls,
DJ Sneak,
Jacob Miller,
Duran Duran,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lungfish,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
Kurtis Blow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiohead,
Dawn Penn,
Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Leaves,
Porter Ricks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Whodini,
Gichy Dan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül II,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Michelle Simonal,
China Crisis,
The Happenings,
Colin Newman,
Cameo,
Barry Ungar,
8 Eyed Spy,
The J.B.'s,
Young Marble Giants,
Glenn Branca,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlback,
Index,
Marine Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Second Layer,
The Fire Engines,
the Germs,
Charles Mingus,
Mars,
Magazine,
Stereo Dub,
Ornette Coleman,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cowsills,
The Red Krayola,
Todd Rundgren,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.