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 Sweden and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crispian St. Peters to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Hashim,
Faust,
Technova,
Gang Starr,
Infiniti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
Davy DMX,
John Coltrane,
Leonard Cohen,
Duran Duran,
Camberwell Now,
Erykah Badu,
Delta 5,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
Goldenarms,
Massinfluence,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Livin' Joy,
Eric Copeland,
The Happenings,
Q65,
Glenn Branca,
Tubeway Army,
Crash Course in Science,
The Smiths,
Flash Fearless,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
David Bowie,
Deadbeat,
Maleditus Sound,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
Fat Boys,
Wings,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Pus,
The Velvet Underground,
The Doors,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Finger,
Cybotron,
Quando Quango,
Oneida,
48th St. Collective,
L. Decosne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Standells,
New Age Steppers,
Althea and Donna,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kayak,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.