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 Turkmenistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Juan Atkins to the grunge 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Selecter,
Section 25,
World's Most,
Buzzcocks,
Moby Grape,
Delta 5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Little Man,
Graham Central Station,
Neu!,
Godley & Creme,
Supertramp,
Bob Dylan,
The Slits,
Shuggie Otis,
FM Einheit,
The Saints,
Parry Music,
The Velvet Underground,
DNA,
Nirvana,
PIL,
Arthur Verocai,
Sex Pistols,
Erasure,
Cybotron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Halsall,
Janne Schatter,
Joey Negro,
Joyce Sims,
Ice-T,
Lou Reed,
The Seeds,
Goldenarms,
Minutemen,
Panda Bear,
Rod Modell,
The Misunderstood,
Clear Light,
Quantec,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Isaac Hayes,
The Tremeloes,
Sound Behaviour,
The Evens,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mr. Review,
Terry Callier,
Oneida,
Marshall Jefferson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Görl,
Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.