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 Malawi and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Mo-Dettes,
Arthur Verocai,
Swell Maps,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
Erykah Badu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yazoo,
AZ,
Flash Fearless,
PIL,
Tim Buckley,
The Seeds,
Public Enemy,
ABC,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tears for Fears,
Loose Ends,
Nation of Ulysses,
In Retrospect,
Eddi Front,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Boz Scaggs,
Blancmange,
Malaria!,
The Gories,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deakin,
Black Bananas,
Amon Düül II,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Radio Birdman,
Television Personalities,
Sister Nancy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joe Finger,
Gichy Dan,
The Techniques,
Dennis Brown,
Ten City,
The Fortunes,
The Residents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nirvana,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Idris Muhammad,
Lalann,
The Golliwogs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Axelrod,
The Grass Roots,
Quando Quango,
MDC,
Ornette Coleman,
Rod Modell,
Harmonia,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.