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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sam Rivers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Circle Jerks,
David Axelrod,
Underground Resistance,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül,
Qualms,
the Swans,
Neu!,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rekid,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mars,
Fatback Band,
The Mummies,
Heaven 17,
Supertramp,
Wally Richardson,
Marvin Gaye,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MC5,
The Birthday Party,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
The Slackers,
The Pretty Things,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Kinks,
Roger Hodgson,
Jandek,
Talk Talk,
The Last Poets,
DJ Style,
Dennis Brown,
The Saints,
Jeff Lynne,
Arcadia,
Fad Gadget,
Kaleidoscope,
Electric Prunes,
Intrusion,
Echospace,
Television,
K-Klass,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Star Department,
The Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lebanon Hanover,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.