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 Bulgaria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hot Snakes to the rock 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Mummies,
Boredoms,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy,
Cal Tjader,
The Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cluster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Infiniti,
La Düsseldorf,
Franke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Shoche,
Oblivians,
Terrestrial Tones,
One Last Wish,
the Slits,
Das Ding,
Bobby Byrd,
Nirvana,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siglo XX,
Tubeway Army,
Swans,
Q65,
New Age Steppers,
Steve Hackett,
Unrelated Segments,
Camouflage,
Bluetip,
Malaria!,
cv313,
Parry Music,
KRS-One,
Yusef Lateef,
The Count Five,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bauhaus,
Wally Richardson,
Barbara Tucker,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Anakelly,
the Association,
Pagans,
Clear Light,
Crooked Eye,
Josef K,
Iggy Pop,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Delta 5,
Alton Ellis,
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.