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 Nicaragua and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 OOIOO to the electroclash 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fortunes,
Silicon Teens,
Arthur Verocai,
Q65,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
Radiohead,
The Tremeloes,
Moss Icon,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Surgeon,
Newcleus,
Blancmange,
Piero Umiliani,
JFA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Little Man,
Reuben Wilson,
The Zeros,
Morten Harket,
Agitation Free,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
Glenn Branca,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Don Cherry,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
Qualms,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Flag,
H. Thieme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Royal Trux,
Average White Band,
Bill Near,
Derrick Morgan,
Scion,
Pierre Henry,
The Angels of Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ossler,
Underground Resistance,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cowsills,
the Swans,
Scientists,
The Names,
Soft Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Unrelated Segments,
Pet Shop Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
Sight & Sound,
Joe Finger,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.