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 Mexico and from London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sun City Girls to the jazz 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Lyres,
Rekid,
Infiniti,
Warren Ellis,
Visage,
Porter Ricks,
Wings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cybotron,
Suicide,
Aloha Tigers,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker,
Alison Limerick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ludus,
Alphaville,
Boredoms,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultravox,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
Lungfish,
Mandrill,
Theoretical Girls,
Prince Buster,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
The Moleskins,
Gang Green,
Sam Rivers,
Intrusion,
Warsaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crime,
Japan,
The Birthday Party,
Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mojo Men,
Smog,
Metal Thangz,
Easy Going,
Camberwell Now,
Steve Hackett,
Das Ding,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
In Retrospect,
Desert Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.