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 Nepal and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Warren Ellis to the funk 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Visage,
The J.B.'s,
Supertramp,
Kerri Chandler,
Deepchord,
U.S. Maple,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Second Layer,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Buckinghams,
Ultravox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Smog,
Stereo Dub,
The Standells,
Brass Construction,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Nas,
Blossom Toes,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Half Japanese,
Lower 48,
Donald Byrd,
The Smoke,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Vogues,
Suburban Knight,
David Bowie,
the Germs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
B.T. Express,
Don Cherry,
Ossler,
Sugar Minott,
Tubeway Army,
David McCallum,
Graham Central Station,
EPMD,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Franke,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blancmange,
Mandrill,
Pylon,
Echospace,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sister Nancy,
Wolf Eyes,
Maurizio,
Camberwell Now,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.