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 Tajikistan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Starr to the techno 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Accadde A,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minny Pops,
Marc Almond,
Skriet,
Crooked Eye,
the Sonics,
The Residents,
Glambeats Corp.,
Surgeon,
Robert Hood,
AZ,
Reagan Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Technova,
The Fugs,
Livin' Joy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Section 25,
Lindisfarne,
Japan,
Sun City Girls,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Heaven 17,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tubeway Army,
Fad Gadget,
Arthur Verocai,
Sex Pistols,
Rotary Connection,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Litter,
Essential Logic,
Audionom,
Hasil Adkins,
The Slackers,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Don Cherry,
Johnny Clarke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Foxx,
The Star Department,
Mission of Burma,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.