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 Venezuela and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 The Mummies to the techno 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Masters at Work,
Basic Channel,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Real Kids,
The Fall,
Sun Ra,
Animal Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Association,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Black Dice,
Guru Guru,
Minny Pops,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Christie,
Thee Headcoats,
World's Most,
Drexciya,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dennis Brown,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Happenings,
The Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lakeside,
The Move,
Mandrill,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aloha Tigers,
Yaz,
Vainqueur,
Eurythmics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Buckinghams,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gabor Szabo,
The Smiths,
Angry Samoans,
Youth Brigade,
The Techniques,
The Blues Magoos,
Camouflage,
Junior Murvin,
Inner City,
Panda Bear,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Juan Atkins,
Albert Ayler,
Wally Richardson,
Peter and Kerry,
Fugazi,
Skarface,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
Chris & Cosey,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.