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 Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Outsiders to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Main Source,
The Barracudas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
Peter and Kerry,
Desert Stars,
The Raincoats,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Index,
Darondo,
EPMD,
Ash Ra Tempel,
This Heat,
Rod Modell,
Dennis Brown,
Loose Ends,
The Modern Lovers,
The Techniques,
Sparks,
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope,
James White and The Blacks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tres Demented,
The Real Kids,
The Fugs,
Fela Kuti,
Patti Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang of Four,
The Slackers,
The Tremeloes,
Nas,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gong,
The Dirtbombs,
10cc,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rotary Connection,
Pere Ubu,
The Toasters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bad Manners,
Soft Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
Peter & Gordon,
The Victims,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Green,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dead C,
Clear Light,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.