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 Libya and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tom Boy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Glenn Branca,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wasted Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Flipper,
Blossom Toes,
Cluster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sister Nancy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
48th St. Collective,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Barracudas,
The Red Krayola,
The Stooges,
Quando Quango,
The Slackers,
Rotary Connection,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra,
Bill Wells,
The Gap Band,
Infiniti,
Quantec,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cowsills,
Y Pants,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Patti Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Rosa Yemen,
The Dead C,
Pussy Galore,
Schoolly D,
Kerri Chandler,
Interpol,
Lucky Dragons,
Robert Görl,
Roxette,
Tubeway Army,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
Joyce Sims,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joe Finger,
Radio Birdman,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.