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 Mauritania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Au Pairs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Reed,
The Last Poets,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rapeman,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hasil Adkins,
MDC,
Y Pants,
Henry Cow,
The Trojans,
Thee Headcoats,
Ituana,
Ten City,
Minor Threat,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dirtbombs,
Ken Boothe,
Maurizio,
Aswad,
Skarface,
Banda Bassotti,
Colin Newman,
Sun Ra,
The Mummies,
The Blackbyrds,
48th St. Collective,
Moby Grape,
Surgeon,
Bobby Womack,
The J.B.'s,
Mad Mike,
Television Personalities,
Shoche,
Hashim,
Minny Pops,
The Alarm Clocks,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
LL Cool J,
James White and The Blacks,
the Swans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jawbox,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
Negative Approach,
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
Joyce Sims,
DNA,
Derrick May,
Ice-T,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.