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 Dominican Republic 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 the Slits to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Tim Buckley,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Leaves,
Rakim,
Jandek,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gichy Dan,
Panda Bear,
Bad Manners,
The Sound,
Agitation Free,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ten City,
The United States of America,
Lightning Bolt,
Godley & Creme,
Black Flag,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liliput,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
David Axelrod,
Tubeway Army,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sixth Finger,
Sparks,
UT,
The Cramps,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mojo Men,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Surgeon,
Pantaleimon,
Qualms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wally Richardson,
Q65,
Danielle Patucci,
Gong,
Warren Ellis,
Organ,
The Zeros,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
Television Personalities,
The Associates,
The Fire Engines,
Ralphi Rosario,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Motions,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.