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 New Zealand and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 The Index to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Girls At Our Best!,
In Retrospect,
David McCallum,
Derrick Morgan,
Surgeon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Pus,
Soft Cell,
Marmalade,
Nils Olav,
Lightning Bolt,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Basic Channel,
Joyce Sims,
Tommy Roe,
The Residents,
Nas,
The Music Machine,
Black Flag,
Trumans Water,
Ronnie Foster,
Suburban Knight,
LL Cool J,
Flamin' Groovies,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
Ludus,
Mantronix,
Unwound,
Youth Brigade,
Black Sheep,
Severed Heads,
Main Source,
Dennis Brown,
Amon Düül,
The Busters,
Yusef Lateef,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Finger,
Hardrive,
PIL,
Accadde A,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cheater Slicks,
The Raincoats,
Prince Buster,
K-Klass,
Adolescents,
The Fortunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Malaria!,
Slick Rick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sound,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.