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 Kuwait and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 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 Gil Scott Heron to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eden Ahbez,
Altered Images,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joyce Sims,
Technova,
Mars,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
Y Pants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Funky Four + One,
Nico,
Blancmange,
Al Stewart,
Robert Hood,
B.T. Express,
The Cramps,
Graham Central Station,
K-Klass,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Gang Dance,
DNA,
Avey Tare,
Morten Harket,
Kaleidoscope,
Motorama,
Gang Starr,
Radiohead,
Cecil Taylor,
Tears for Fears,
Joey Negro,
Alphaville,
The Fugs,
Gang of Four,
Urselle,
Chrome,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dead C,
Sonic Youth,
Saccharine Trust,
Metal Thangz,
La Düsseldorf,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Count Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glenn Branca,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cameo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ten City,
Derrick May,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.