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 Korea South and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the techno 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Magma,
The Neon Judgement,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blake Baxter,
Essential Logic,
Barry Ungar,
Nick Fraelich,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dead C,
Ultra Naté,
Unwound,
Crime,
Pagans,
Absolute Body Control,
This Heat,
the Bar-Kays,
Basic Channel,
Eve St. Jones,
Echospace,
Darondo,
Sound Behaviour,
Iggy Pop,
The Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smoke,
Thee Headcoats,
Anakelly,
Wolf Eyes,
Terry Callier,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Quando Quango,
Deakin,
The Knickerbockers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Main Source,
Q and Not U,
Whodini,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Byrd,
Gastr Del Sol,
Amazonics,
Black Moon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ponytail,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roxy Music,
Peter & Gordon,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joyce Sims,
Urselle,
Moss Icon,
Ronan,
Surgeon,
The Residents,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.