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 South Africa and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Donald Byrd to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Pere Ubu,
David McCallum,
Monolake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aural Exciters,
Siglo XX,
Panda Bear,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang of Four,
Tom Boy,
the Bar-Kays,
The Busters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
The Doors,
The Moleskins,
Vladislav Delay,
Q and Not U,
Anakelly,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra,
Buzzcocks,
Carl Craig,
Surgeon,
Matthew Halsall,
Soft Machine,
Minor Threat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shuggie Otis,
Easy Going,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Rhythm & Sound,
Max Romeo,
Gang Green,
Jacob Miller,
Supertramp,
The Knickerbockers,
This Heat,
The Slits,
Brand Nubian,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Outsiders,
Boredoms,
Tommy Roe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Brothers Johnson,
Joey Negro,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Godley & Creme,
Funky Four + One,
Duran Duran,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Teasers,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.