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 Paraguay and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Neu!,
Pere Ubu,
The J.B.'s,
Television,
The Five Americans,
Kenny Larkin,
Little Man,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
DNA,
Prince Buster,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sixth Finger,
Carl Craig,
The Searchers,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Byrd,
Guru Guru,
The Neon Judgement,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxette,
Tom Boy,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
Althea and Donna,
The United States of America,
Marmalade,
Goldenarms,
R.M.O.,
Deadbeat,
Franke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sight & Sound,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mantronix,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magazine,
Glenn Branca,
Yusef Lateef,
Man Eating Sloth,
Talk Talk,
Maleditus Sound,
Ice-T,
Das Ding,
The Doors,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brick,
Mission of Burma,
Pet Shop Boys,
Davy DMX,
Ultimate Spinach,
FM Einheit,
MC5,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.