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 New Zealand and from Manchester.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television to the jazz 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Green,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
Janne Schatter,
Nils Olav,
Subhumans,
In Retrospect,
Donald Byrd,
The Pretty Things,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jawbox,
Flash Fearless,
The Five Americans,
Smog,
Metal Thangz,
The Barracudas,
The Last Poets,
Johnny Osbourne,
The J.B.'s,
Yaz,
Dawn Penn,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Shoche,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Move,
Eli Mardock,
Iggy Pop,
The Invisible,
Joensuu 1685,
The Beau Brummels,
Alton Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
Zapp,
The Zeros,
Chris Corsano,
Scrapy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Mojo Men,
The Kinks,
The Cowsills,
Niagra,
The Vogues,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Flag,
Letta Mbulu,
Anakelly,
Soul II Soul,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rakim,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.