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 Croatia and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Popol Vuh to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Shuggie Otis,
Newcleus,
Tim Buckley,
The Monochrome Set,
Terry Callier,
The Moleskins,
Harmonia,
Loose Ends,
Judy Mowatt,
Tears for Fears,
Fluxion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
China Crisis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crooked Eye,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fall,
R.M.O.,
Warren Ellis,
the Bar-Kays,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rekid,
Arcadia,
Chrome,
DJ Style,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dead Boys,
Half Japanese,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alton Ellis,
Eve St. Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
Alphaville,
Harpers Bizarre,
Essential Logic,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Motorama,
Flash Fearless,
Wolf Eyes,
Slave,
Yazoo,
Graham Central Station,
Bush Tetras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joensuu 1685,
The Residents,
Scrapy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare,
The Human League,
Jimmy McGriff,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Cymande,
Arthur Verocai,
Joy Division,
Television Personalities,
Funky Four + One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.