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 St Lucia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pharoah Sanders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Fraelich,
Subhumans,
Slave,
Fugazi,
June of 44,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aloha Tigers,
Roy Ayers,
Pierre Henry,
Yazoo,
Joe Smooth,
Rapeman,
the Association,
Andrew Hill,
Motorama,
Aural Exciters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Little Man,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
Rod Modell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rufus Thomas,
David McCallum,
Lungfish,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Zapp,
Spoonie Gee,
Blancmange,
Spandau Ballet,
Model 500,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Gang Dance,
The J.B.'s,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Echospace,
Radiohead,
Desert Stars,
The Vogues,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fugs,
Moby Grape,
Half Japanese,
Todd Rundgren,
Darondo,
Fluxion,
Gabor Szabo,
Wasted Youth,
Camberwell Now,
The Saints,
Albert Ayler,
The Remains,
Barrington Levy,
Magma,
Sugar Minott,
The Sisters of Mercy,
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.