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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Andrew Hill to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Count Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Raincoats,
E-Dancer,
John Foxx,
Stiv Bators,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Harmonia,
Ultravox,
Lee Hazlewood,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
David Axelrod,
Bluetip,
The Blackbyrds,
The Velvet Underground,
Public Image Ltd.,
Surgeon,
Anakelly,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sugar Minott,
The Moleskins,
In Retrospect,
Carl Craig,
Quantec,
Duran Duran,
Scan 7,
Gang Green,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eve St. Jones,
Half Japanese,
Whodini,
Jawbox,
Todd Terry,
Liliput,
Derrick Morgan,
The Monochrome Set,
Delta 5,
Wasted Youth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
EPMD,
Radiohead,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra,
Magma,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.