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 Qatar and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Aural Exciters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Buzzcocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swans,
Symarip,
Juan Atkins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Iggy Pop,
Essential Logic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Model 500,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
Agent Orange,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Sherman,
Junior Murvin,
Marine Girls,
Magma,
Todd Rundgren,
Shoche,
The Modern Lovers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Pagans,
Scientists,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
Sixth Finger,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare,
Black Flag,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Laurel Aitken,
Niagra,
cv313,
Q and Not U,
Au Pairs,
The Star Department,
The Offenders,
Grey Daturas,
Jandek,
Popol Vuh,
Moby Grape,
Los Fastidios,
John Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alton Ellis,
Moss Icon,
Babytalk,
The Kinks,
Skriet,
The Blackbyrds,
Stetsasonic,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.