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 Australia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nirvana to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Excepter 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Dawn Penn,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brick,
Gerry Rafferty,
James White and The Blacks,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
Yaz,
Patti Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Germs,
June Days,
MC5,
the Slits,
A Certain Ratio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Henry Cow,
The New Christs,
Ronnie Foster,
AZ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Remains,
Youth Brigade,
Al Stewart,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Underground Resistance,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
Dave Gahan,
Bronski Beat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Das Ding,
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flipper,
Lightning Bolt,
The Searchers,
In Retrospect,
The Music Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
The Moody Blues,
Rekid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yellowson,
David Bowie,
Marc Almond,
Black Bananas,
Con Funk Shun,
10cc,
The Slackers,
The Velvet Underground,
Main Source,
The J.B.'s,
The Pretty Things,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rapeman,
Sällskapet,
Faraquet,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.