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 Kazakhstan and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 David Bowie 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 Brass Construction to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Evens,
Supertramp,
Masters at Work,
Sonny Sharrock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Theoretical Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Darondo,
Index,
Pantaleimon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Almond,
Joyce Sims,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Interpol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Q65,
Juan Atkins,
Rakim,
DJ Sneak,
LL Cool J,
Scan 7,
The Electric Prunes,
kango's stein massive,
Kaleidoscope,
Pylon,
The United States of America,
The Skatalites,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Velvet Underground,
B.T. Express,
The Litter,
Nirvana,
The Modern Lovers,
Camberwell Now,
Depeche Mode,
Steve Hackett,
Tom Boy,
The Remains,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul II Soul,
The Flesh Eaters,
KRS-One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Saccharine Trust,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Davy DMX,
The Trojans,
In Retrospect,
Moby Grape,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Average White Band,
Circle Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.