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 Namibia and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum 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 The Doors to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skriet,
R.M.O.,
Unrelated Segments,
Newcleus,
Zero Boys,
New Age Steppers,
One Last Wish,
Thee Headcoats,
The Invisible,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
U.S. Maple,
The J.B.'s,
The United States of America,
Funky Four + One,
Theoretical Girls,
The Wake,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Remains,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
Moebius,
Donny Hathaway,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cluster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Symarip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joyce Sims,
The Cramps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faraquet,
Make Up,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Al Stewart,
A Certain Ratio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric Dolphy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Buzzcocks,
Pylon,
Kerri Chandler,
Hashim,
Blancmange,
Yazoo,
Jeff Mills,
Nirvana,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
Massinfluence,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suburban Knight,
Slick Rick,
The Cure,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.