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 Lesotho and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Pere Ubu to the grunge 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Trumans Water,
Aloha Tigers,
MDC,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Public Enemy,
Average White Band,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The New Christs,
This Heat,
Q and Not U,
Eden Ahbez,
David Bowie,
Lungfish,
Andrew Hill,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
Dark Day,
cv313,
Gichy Dan,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
June Days,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joensuu 1685,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Boredoms,
Chrome,
Bobby Womack,
Ultra Naté,
Black Bananas,
The Golliwogs,
Jandek,
Bronski Beat,
John Cale,
The Gun Club,
KRS-One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Man Parrish,
Lou Christie,
The Smoke,
The Doors,
Drexciya,
David McCallum,
The Searchers,
Robert Görl,
DJ Sneak,
Television,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.