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 Uganda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Almond to the electroclash 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Brothers Johnson,
Stetsasonic,
Sarah Menescal,
Soulsonic Force,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Patti Smith,
Morten Harket,
Masters at Work,
Moss Icon,
PIL,
Fad Gadget,
Scrapy,
Wolf Eyes,
Kenny Larkin,
Yaz,
Fear,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amon Düül II,
Amazonics,
The Five Americans,
Erykah Badu,
Tears for Fears,
Jimmy McGriff,
Panda Bear,
The Gories,
T. Rex,
The Index,
The Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Danielle Patucci,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Matthew Halsall,
Von Mondo,
Neil Young,
The Residents,
Roxy Music,
Brass Construction,
Soul Sonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
Jeff Mills,
Scratch Acid,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suicide,
Shoche,
Aural Exciters,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.