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 Nigeria and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sandy B,
T.S.O.L.,
Shuggie Otis,
New York Dolls,
10cc,
Blossom Toes,
Barry Ungar,
Adolescents,
Yusef Lateef,
Dual Sessions,
Fad Gadget,
The Grass Roots,
Metal Thangz,
Sam Rivers,
Derrick May,
Moby Grape,
The Martian,
Visage,
Lindisfarne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Das Ding,
Tommy Roe,
Pantaleimon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Inner City,
The Gories,
The Kinks,
Severed Heads,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Invisible,
X-Ray Spex,
Supertramp,
Audionom,
Los Fastidios,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Saints,
Organ,
David McCallum,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cramps,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aswad,
Fugazi,
Agitation Free,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Moon,
The Monks,
Vladislav Delay,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Make Up,
Oneida,
Chrome,
Jandek,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.