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 Malta and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grime 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eli Mardock,
Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Eve St. Jones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers,
The Pop Group,
The Wake,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Hood,
Moss Icon,
L. Decosne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Girls At Our Best!,
LL Cool J,
Funkadelic,
Camberwell Now,
Ohio Players,
Harry Pussy,
Dark Day,
a-ha,
The Motions,
Sonic Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mark Hollis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Half Japanese,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultravox,
T.S.O.L.,
Livin' Joy,
Babytalk,
Hashim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Sheep,
Pussy Galore,
DNA,
Bush Tetras,
The New Christs,
Depeche Mode,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Peter & Gordon,
The Angels of Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drexciya,
Mr. Review,
Todd Rundgren,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
48th St. Collective,
Fluxion,
MDC,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.