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 Algeria and from Calgary.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Junior Murvin to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Amazonics,
Eli Mardock,
Ice-T,
Fear,
The Mummies,
Harry Pussy,
The Birthday Party,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
Aswad,
Fela Kuti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Litter,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T. Rex,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tubeway Army,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
The Golliwogs,
The Gories,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
Wings,
Glambeats Corp.,
Delta 5,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare,
Oblivians,
Nico,
MDC,
Lower 48,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-102,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Human League,
Inner City,
a-ha,
OOIOO,
Massinfluence,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hoover,
Donald Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
Rufus Thomas,
Sparks,
Nirvana,
Kenny Larkin,
Interpol,
The Busters,
Sällskapet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.