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 Israel and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Infiniti to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Litter,
cv313,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
Silicon Teens,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun City Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minutemen,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Sonics,
The Pop Group,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Altered Images,
the Human League,
Ossler,
Gong,
John Lydon,
The Black Dice,
X-Ray Spex,
Drexciya,
The Dirtbombs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Q and Not U,
Deadbeat,
AZ,
FM Einheit,
Tres Demented,
Stiv Bators,
Monks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
UT,
Make Up,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Pretty Things,
Scan 7,
The Star Department,
Accadde A,
Easy Going,
Gang of Four,
The Golliwogs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roger Hodgson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.