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 France and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Henry Cow to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The Last Poets,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Albert Ayler,
Jerry's Kids,
Agitation Free,
Mandrill,
Fugazi,
U.S. Maple,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Almond,
Deakin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
CMW,
Animal Collective,
Inner City,
Bobby Sherman,
Ossler,
Isaac Hayes,
Derrick May,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Skaos,
New York Dolls,
Pulsallama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quando Quango,
Mission of Burma,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Theoretical Girls,
The Wake,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Slackers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Q and Not U,
Lucky Dragons,
ABC,
The Divine Comedy,
Joy Division,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sound,
Zapp,
Lungfish,
Jacques Brel,
Visage,
Jawbox,
The Barracudas,
Idris Muhammad,
Sparks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Pop Group,
The Martian,
Rites of Spring,
Parry Music,
Blossom Toes,
The Walker Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.