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 Antigua and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 The Monks to the punk 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Ossler,
Royal Trux,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mandrill,
H. Thieme,
Ituana,
Chris & Cosey,
Subhumans,
Infiniti,
Franke,
Groovy Waters,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Fatback Band,
Urselle,
Porter Ricks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fat Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slick Rick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zero Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tears for Fears,
Glenn Branca,
The Barracudas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Carl Craig,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Normal,
Neu!,
Crash Course in Science,
Moebius,
Ponytail,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
Shuggie Otis,
Matthew Halsall,
The Motions,
Black Pus,
Ludus,
Reuben Wilson,
Saccharine Trust,
OOIOO,
The Slackers,
Wire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Five Americans,
The Mummies,
The Names,
The Selecter,
Sister Nancy,
Easy Going,
Blossom Toes,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.