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 Indonesia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 Jacob Miller to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Deakin,
The Gories,
Rufus Thomas,
K-Klass,
Brick,
The Moody Blues,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Graham Central Station,
Reuben Wilson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Make Up,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mummies,
CMW,
Das Ding,
Robert Wyatt,
Franke,
Theoretical Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Clarke,
Rites of Spring,
Nas,
Michelle Simonal,
The Black Dice,
The Residents,
The Searchers,
Fela Kuti,
Bush Tetras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lower 48,
Bill Wells,
The Fugs,
Blossom Toes,
John Coltrane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mission of Burma,
Darondo,
Pantytec,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Peter and Kerry,
Tommy Roe,
Brass Construction,
The Victims,
Newcleus,
UT,
Qualms,
LL Cool J,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yazoo,
Eric Copeland,
Prince Buster,
Althea and Donna,
Kurtis Blow,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.