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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Traffic Nightmare to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Saccharine Trust,
Eddi Front,
Desert Stars,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
Easy Going,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
D'Angelo,
Los Fastidios,
Blake Baxter,
Agitation Free,
Tres Demented,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Anthony Braxton,
Altered Images,
The Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Animal Collective,
Howard Jones,
Joe Smooth,
Visage,
Kerri Chandler,
Amon Düül,
Maurizio,
Franke,
Basic Channel,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sugar Minott,
The Star Department,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Excepter,
Nas,
Television,
Peter & Gordon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Whodini,
John Cale,
Section 25,
Sixth Finger,
Absolute Body Control,
The Modern Lovers,
Connie Case,
Ohio Players,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Flag,
Hot Snakes,
Subhumans,
Brand Nubian,
Jesper Dahlback,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Y Pants,
Dave Gahan,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
F. McDonald,
Fad Gadget,
Cameo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ken Boothe,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.