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 Gambia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 808 and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-101,
Amon Düül,
T. Rex,
Banda Bassotti,
Motorama,
Groovy Waters,
Leonard Cohen,
Flamin' Groovies,
D'Angelo,
Fear,
Sparks,
The Slackers,
MC5,
Reagan Youth,
Television,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Urselle,
Connie Case,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pylon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lightning Bolt,
Darondo,
Black Flag,
Pussy Galore,
World's Most,
DJ Sneak,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
Jawbox,
The Fall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stiv Bators,
Rod Modell,
Simply Red,
Neu!,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Womack,
These Immortal Souls,
Supertramp,
Bluetip,
Kerri Chandler,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brick,
Yaz,
Japan,
The American Breed,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacob Miller,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hasil Adkins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wally Richardson,
Bush Tetras,
Mantronix,
Mr. Review,
Bauhaus,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.