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 Maldives and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Angry Samoans to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
AZ,
Audionom,
Crooked Eye,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Young Marble Giants,
Malaria!,
Amon Düül,
The Seeds,
Soulsonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Jandek,
Moss Icon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drexciya,
The Stooges,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
Icehouse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerri Chandler,
Letta Mbulu,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
OOIOO,
Symarip,
Ronnie Foster,
Nils Olav,
Chris Corsano,
Unwound,
Blake Baxter,
Whodini,
Reuben Wilson,
CMW,
Toni Rubio,
Technova,
Mr. Review,
Stereo Dub,
Peter and Kerry,
The Modern Lovers,
Absolute Body Control,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Das Ding,
Ossler,
Slick Rick,
Kenny Larkin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Style,
Easy Going,
The Dead C,
Ronan,
Eli Mardock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Slave,
Trumans Water,
Howard Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.