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 Malawi and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord 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 Barry Ungar to the grunge 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Anthony Braxton,
John Holt,
Television Personalities,
Malaria!,
Erasure,
X-101,
F. McDonald,
Outsiders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mighty Diamonds,
E-Dancer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Pop Group,
K-Klass,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fluxion,
Cheater Slicks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Massinfluence,
Banda Bassotti,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül II,
The Real Kids,
The Wake,
Cymande,
Charles Mingus,
the Bar-Kays,
Visage,
The Fall,
World's Most,
Thompson Twins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Panda Bear,
KRS-One,
Swans,
Roy Ayers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grauzone,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Robert Hood,
OOIOO,
Whodini,
The Birthday Party,
MDC,
Brick,
Neil Young,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rufus Thomas,
The Techniques,
Laurel Aitken,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sight & Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Normal,
Minutemen,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.