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 Tonga and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 The Happenings to the rock 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Joyce Sims,
Mark Hollis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Whodini,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Make Up,
Scientists,
Agitation Free,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
UT,
The Offenders,
The Cramps,
Black Bananas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
Jeff Mills,
Tubeway Army,
Theoretical Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Erykah Badu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
AZ,
The Fortunes,
Nirvana,
Yusef Lateef,
Brand Nubian,
Mars,
Negative Approach,
Pierre Henry,
The Pretty Things,
Hoover,
The Cowsills,
Funky Four + One,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
Piero Umiliani,
Susan Cadogan,
Traffic Nightmare,
10cc,
Easy Going,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Misunderstood,
Alison Limerick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Model 500,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
H. Thieme,
Sex Pistols,
Lebanon Hanover,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.