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 East Timor and from Manila.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Freddie Wadling to the dance 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Malaria!,
The Cramps,
Arthur Verocai,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
La Düsseldorf,
Echospace,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mummies,
Wasted Youth,
Fluxion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
Bauhaus,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Association,
Tubeway Army,
Aaron Thompson,
Rekid,
The Gun Club,
E-Dancer,
The Blues Magoos,
Ronnie Foster,
Letta Mbulu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yazoo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deepchord,
Blossom Toes,
Sister Nancy,
ABC,
Half Japanese,
The Mighty Diamonds,
LL Cool J,
Babytalk,
Loose Ends,
Pole,
Lindisfarne,
The Barracudas,
Thee Headcoats,
Soulsonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Qualms,
Lalo Schifrin,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Index,
The Angels of Light,
Lalann,
The Dead C,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wally Richardson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Delta 5,
Robert Wyatt,
Scratch Acid,
Connie Case,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.