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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ubiquity to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
The Gun Club,
Minny Pops,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zero Boys,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
The Kinks,
the Bar-Kays,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Cale,
Duran Duran,
The New Christs,
Moby Grape,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bauhaus,
Minnie Riperton,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cowsills,
Gang Starr,
The Searchers,
Connie Case,
Pere Ubu,
Kenny Larkin,
The Golliwogs,
Niagra,
Wings,
Hashim,
10cc,
Matthew Halsall,
Aloha Tigers,
Janne Schatter,
Intrusion,
Davy DMX,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moebius,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Main Source,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stetsasonic,
The Misunderstood,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
The Mummies,
Motorama,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ken Boothe,
Popol Vuh,
The Walker Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funkadelic,
Crash Course in Science,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rapeman,
Faraquet,
The Selecter,
The Red Krayola,
Audionom,
Drexciya,
the Sonics,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.