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 Croatia and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Pagans to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Jandek,
10cc,
The Motions,
Black Sheep,
Robert Wyatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
OOIOO,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crooked Eye,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Derrick May,
The Velvet Underground,
The Grass Roots,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Little Man,
Sandy B,
Ohio Players,
The Sound,
The Red Krayola,
Soul II Soul,
James White and The Blacks,
Al Stewart,
Todd Rundgren,
Clear Light,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Germs,
Joyce Sims,
Audionom,
Bush Tetras,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Sex Pistols,
Letta Mbulu,
Symarip,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suicide,
Siglo XX,
The Blues Magoos,
Freddie Wadling,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liliput,
The Kinks,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Copeland,
Boredoms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Qualms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Section 25,
Black Moon,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.