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 Morocco and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer 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 The Move to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Scrapy,
Sam Rivers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mo-Dettes,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Henry Cow,
The Victims,
Tim Buckley,
Marcia Griffiths,
Q and Not U,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Liliput,
Subhumans,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Oblivians,
Easy Going,
Underground Resistance,
Jacques Brel,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scion,
Cameo,
Von Mondo,
Essential Logic,
The Wake,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
Monks,
Drexciya,
The Buckinghams,
Television,
The Music Machine,
Connie Case,
The Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Shoche,
In Retrospect,
Newcleus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Matthew Halsall,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Toasters,
Delta 5,
Deakin,
Bluetip,
Chrome,
Bob Dylan,
the Soft Cell,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.