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 Korea South and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe 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 harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Trojans,
Skaos,
Hoover,
Skriet,
The Buckinghams,
In Retrospect,
T.S.O.L.,
The Birthday Party,
The Smoke,
Surgeon,
The Modern Lovers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Sonic Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rites of Spring,
Arthur Verocai,
Marine Girls,
Altered Images,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tubeway Army,
The Cowsills,
Pantaleimon,
June Days,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
U.S. Maple,
B.T. Express,
Adolescents,
Q65,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gabor Szabo,
Guru Guru,
Los Fastidios,
Ultravox,
Jerry's Kids,
Nas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slackers,
Deadbeat,
T. Rex,
Franke,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fat Boys,
Gang Green,
EPMD,
Henry Cow,
Tommy Roe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare,
The Cure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.