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 Indonesia 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Star Department to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Excepter,
Barbara Tucker,
Crime,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yusef Lateef,
Angry Samoans,
Tim Buckley,
Jeru the Damaja,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Half Japanese,
Arthur Verocai,
The Raincoats,
Soul II Soul,
Wasted Youth,
John Foxx,
Bauhaus,
MC5,
Radiohead,
E-Dancer,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Zapp,
Deakin,
The Skatalites,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Searchers,
Siglo XX,
Marcia Griffiths,
Anthony Braxton,
Bad Manners,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
Lightning Bolt,
Moss Icon,
Index,
Fugazi,
FM Einheit,
Sixth Finger,
Skriet,
Tom Boy,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scratch Acid,
Scion,
Bob Dylan,
Freddie Wadling,
Cluster,
Eurythmics,
The Mummies,
Q65,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sam Rivers,
Dawn Penn,
Black Moon,
Symarip,
The Remains,
The Neon Judgement,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.