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 Fiji and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Avey Tare to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
T.S.O.L.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Clarke,
The Gun Club,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Television Personalities,
The Velvet Underground,
The Evens,
The Invisible,
Underground Resistance,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
Model 500,
Zero Boys,
The Kinks,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lalann,
Con Funk Shun,
The Trojans,
The Remains,
Outsiders,
Janne Schatter,
Agitation Free,
Isaac Hayes,
Aural Exciters,
AZ,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Green,
Siglo XX,
Robert Hood,
Fear,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeru the Damaja,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Groovy Waters,
R.M.O.,
Motorama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oneida,
Simply Red,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aaron Thompson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lower 48,
X-Ray Spex,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Mills,
Fugazi,
Fatback Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drexciya,
Pulsallama,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harry Pussy,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.