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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb 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 Connie Case to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
B.T. Express,
a-ha,
Agent Orange,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Chris & Cosey,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Y Pants,
LL Cool J,
Hardrive,
Scan 7,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Skarface,
Khruangbin,
Leonard Cohen,
Alice Coltrane,
Scrapy,
Mission of Burma,
Guru Guru,
Lyres,
Marcia Griffiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
U.S. Maple,
Index,
Marmalade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lungfish,
Hashim,
Suburban Knight,
Hoover,
Avey Tare,
Black Moon,
Gichy Dan,
Ornette Coleman,
The Real Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Kayak,
Gong,
Magazine,
Newcleus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fela Kuti,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-101,
Desert Stars,
the Normal,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Teasers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chris Corsano,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Q and Not U,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.