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 St Lucia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Reagan Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Matthew Bourne,
Gang Gang Dance,
B.T. Express,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Techniques,
Deakin,
The Martian,
X-102,
Crash Course in Science,
The Victims,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scientists,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Starr,
cv313,
The Cowsills,
Man Parrish,
Moebius,
Scion,
Al Stewart,
Clear Light,
MC5,
KRS-One,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Essential Logic,
Jeff Mills,
Tim Buckley,
Judy Mowatt,
Jawbox,
The Durutti Column,
Minnie Riperton,
Ituana,
The Wake,
Pierre Henry,
Malaria!,
Scan 7,
Metal Thangz,
Fad Gadget,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Whodini,
Yazoo,
Pole,
Flash Fearless,
Oneida,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Donald Byrd,
Roxette,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Panda Bear,
Radiopuhelimet,
Byron Stingily,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arthur Verocai,
Tears for Fears,
Section 25,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.