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 Cameroon and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar 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 Chocolate Watch Band 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Fat Boys,
The Dead C,
The Modern Lovers,
Index,
Animal Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Sherman,
Gong,
Popol Vuh,
Slick Rick,
Colin Newman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick May,
Lyres,
Eurythmics,
Infiniti,
Harry Pussy,
Boz Scaggs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Germs,
Funky Four + One,
Underground Resistance,
Tubeway Army,
Prince Buster,
Unwound,
Nas,
Agent Orange,
Niagra,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gap Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric Dolphy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pulsallama,
Cecil Taylor,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
Aloha Tigers,
Dark Day,
Spoonie Gee,
The Leaves,
Mark Hollis,
Country Teasers,
Rites of Spring,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Deakin,
Monolake,
The Residents,
The Stooges,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Angry Samoans,
The Fortunes,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.