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 Cuba and from New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 American Breed to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gang Green,
John Holt,
Lightning Bolt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Offenders,
Urselle,
The Fall,
Pole,
KRS-One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Wells,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Organ,
The Fugs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hoover,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wire,
The Beau Brummels,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Iggy Pop,
Al Stewart,
Silicon Teens,
E-Dancer,
Radiohead,
Minor Threat,
Animal Collective,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Nick Fraelich,
Rod Modell,
The Buckinghams,
The Kinks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eddi Front,
Metal Thangz,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Danielle Patucci,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ohio Players,
The Blues Magoos,
Television Personalities,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Velvet Underground,
Clear Light,
Wolf Eyes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
OOIOO,
Technova,
Skaos,
The Dirtbombs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Rufus Thomas,
Scrapy,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.