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 Poland and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Ornette Coleman to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amon Düül II,
Angry Samoans,
Ohio Players,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
Marine Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jacques Brel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cybotron,
Tres Demented,
Youth Brigade,
Cameo,
Yusef Lateef,
Stereo Dub,
Don Cherry,
Malaria!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Spandau Ballet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yazoo,
Soul II Soul,
E-Dancer,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fugs,
Ronan,
Quadrant,
8 Eyed Spy,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Suburban Knight,
Black Bananas,
Glenn Branca,
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Byron Stingily,
Juan Atkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-Ray Spex,
Drexciya,
Derrick May,
The Count Five,
Archie Shepp,
Lindisfarne,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alison Limerick,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.