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 Armenia and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Nils Olav to the dance 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
OOIOO,
The Black Dice,
Boredoms,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Real Kids,
Subhumans,
MDC,
Mars,
The Monks,
Accadde A,
LL Cool J,
The Music Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Leonard Cohen,
June Days,
The Index,
Warren Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
Graham Central Station,
The Last Poets,
the Human League,
Donny Hathaway,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cybotron,
Procol Harum,
Black Flag,
Grey Daturas,
Icehouse,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Leaves,
These Immortal Souls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tom Boy,
Slick Rick,
Brick,
Schoolly D,
Skriet,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lindisfarne,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Audionom,
Isaac Hayes,
Rhythm & Sound,
DJ Style,
Reagan Youth,
The Gun Club,
Boz Scaggs,
The Kinks,
The Star Department,
Amazonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Urselle,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.