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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 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 AZ to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed,
Jacques Brel,
Procol Harum,
The Young Rascals,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Smooth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Whodini,
Rosa Yemen,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yellowson,
Cal Tjader,
Jandek,
Desert Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Mad Mike,
Main Source,
Josef K,
Marine Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cure,
Stereo Dub,
Reuben Wilson,
La Düsseldorf,
the Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
Gastr Del Sol,
Khruangbin,
Dead Boys,
Terry Callier,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter & Gordon,
Nils Olav,
Eric Dolphy,
Sarah Menescal,
Crime,
A Certain Ratio,
Blancmange,
Oblivians,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Motions,
The Saints,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeff Mills,
R.M.O.,
Spandau Ballet,
Fad Gadget,
LL Cool J,
The Velvet Underground,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.