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 Tonga and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Drive Like Jehu to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Slick Rick,
The Human League,
Minny Pops,
Godley & Creme,
Robert Görl,
Rites of Spring,
The Young Rascals,
Ohio Players,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Buzzcocks,
The Zeros,
Hoover,
Yellowson,
Technova,
Goldenarms,
Ultravox,
Steve Hackett,
Patti Smith,
Carl Craig,
the Normal,
cv313,
Isaac Hayes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jawbox,
D'Angelo,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül II,
The J.B.'s,
Roger Hodgson,
Hardrive,
Amazonics,
Y Pants,
ABC,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cramps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sixth Finger,
Desert Stars,
Black Sheep,
The American Breed,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Au Pairs,
Talk Talk,
The Litter,
Lalann,
Brick,
Average White Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Clarke,
MDC,
The Fuzztones,
F. McDonald,
John Foxx,
The Alarm Clocks,
Index,
Ten City,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Ornette Coleman,
Loose Ends,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.