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 Turkey and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Gun Club 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Pere Ubu,
Eric Dolphy,
Mo-Dettes,
In Retrospect,
The Detroit Cobras,
Half Japanese,
Stereo Dub,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wire,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
Quadrant,
Bob Dylan,
Janne Schatter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Franke,
Lower 48,
The Vogues,
Tears for Fears,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roger Hodgson,
FM Einheit,
Scrapy,
Cluster,
The Leaves,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
Mantronix,
Nirvana,
Godley & Creme,
The Barracudas,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cowsills,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Sheep,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
New Order,
Crash Course in Science,
Dorothy Ashby,
Al Stewart,
Television,
Faust,
Kool Moe Dee,
KRS-One,
Sight & Sound,
L. Decosne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
Donny Hathaway,
Joe Smooth,
Parry Music,
Trumans Water,
The Smoke,
Barrington Levy,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.