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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
The Names,
The Wake,
Loose Ends,
Bauhaus,
Altered Images,
Harry Pussy,
Suburban Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Moon,
The Gladiators,
Thompson Twins,
Stockholm Monsters,
AZ,
MDC,
Monolake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pussy Galore,
Gastr Del Sol,
Monks,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Byron Stingily,
Reuben Wilson,
These Immortal Souls,
The American Breed,
Funkadelic,
Black Pus,
the Human League,
The Associates,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lucky Dragons,
KRS-One,
Lungfish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kaleidoscope,
Sandy B,
Pulsallama,
Wasted Youth,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Sherman,
Shuggie Otis,
Jeff Lynne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Technova,
Bill Near,
The Real Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Alice Coltrane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alphaville,
The Sisters of Mercy,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.