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 Madagascar and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Circle Jerks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Residents,
Wire,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Flag,
Khruangbin,
the Slits,
Hasil Adkins,
JFA,
T. Rex,
Morten Harket,
Franke,
Fela Kuti,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
Newcleus,
Parry Music,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Albert Ayler,
Alison Limerick,
The Five Americans,
Panda Bear,
CMW,
The Fire Engines,
Television,
The Saints,
The Monochrome Set,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Cymande,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gabor Szabo,
Deakin,
Piero Umiliani,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ludus,
John Foxx,
Anakelly,
Section 25,
Suburban Knight,
the Sonics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Symarip,
The Motions,
H. Thieme,
Rod Modell,
Flipper,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Alice Coltrane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Music Machine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aural Exciters,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.