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 Tunisia and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Half Japanese 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Max Romeo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sam Rivers,
Juan Atkins,
Scratch Acid,
The Buckinghams,
Fluxion,
Royal Trux,
Cybotron,
The Evens,
The Mummies,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Hood,
Fugazi,
Crooked Eye,
Alphaville,
Bluetip,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rotary Connection,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bill Near,
Newcleus,
The Blues Magoos,
Dual Sessions,
Supertramp,
X-101,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Divine Comedy,
Hashim,
The Martian,
Rod Modell,
Porter Ricks,
Desert Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minutemen,
Todd Rundgren,
Minor Threat,
Section 25,
Graham Central Station,
Warren Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lalann,
Mission of Burma,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
David Axelrod,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Accadde A,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sandy B,
Pole,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.