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 Tuvalu and from Manila.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Happenings to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Spoonie Gee,
Babytalk,
Mission of Burma,
Sandy B,
F. McDonald,
Sister Nancy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Barracudas,
The Golliwogs,
Brass Construction,
Country Teasers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joy Division,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Residents,
Stetsasonic,
Lindisfarne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Anakelly,
K-Klass,
Judy Mowatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stereo Dub,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kerri Chandler,
Ludus,
Toni Rubio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sonic Youth,
a-ha,
A Certain Ratio,
Cluster,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Music Machine,
Mars,
Matthew Halsall,
Easy Going,
Ossler,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fear,
The Trojans,
Chrome,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
ABBA,
Rod Modell,
The Durutti Column,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wire,
Unwound,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultravox,
Fad Gadget,
Rakim,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Modern Lovers,
Goldenarms,
The Saints,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.