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 the UAE and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Albert Ayler to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Gun Club,
Sonic Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Easy Going,
Gang Starr,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Metal Thangz,
Scan 7,
B.T. Express,
Talk Talk,
Harmonia,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flash Fearless,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
Letta Mbulu,
The Slackers,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Womack,
New Age Steppers,
Gong,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joey Negro,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Holt,
Crime,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lightning Bolt,
Tom Boy,
Magma,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
Duran Duran,
Sparks,
Y Pants,
Hardrive,
Inner City,
Ultravox,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fugazi,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mantronix,
Symarip,
Dennis Brown,
Surgeon,
ABBA,
Archie Shepp,
The Misunderstood,
Stockholm Monsters,
E-Dancer,
The Leaves,
Ten City,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.