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 Kazakhstan and from Milan.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Durutti Column,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Ice-T,
Stiv Bators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Pus,
The Birthday Party,
The Gladiators,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
the Slits,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
Little Man,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tomorrow,
Minor Threat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Von Mondo,
X-102,
Throbbing Gristle,
David McCallum,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camberwell Now,
Unwound,
Rekid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Subhumans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
PIL,
The Cure,
The Busters,
The Victims,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
One Last Wish,
Icehouse,
Skriet,
Liliput,
Wally Richardson,
Laurel Aitken,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Beau Brummels,
Brick,
Robert Görl,
Fugazi,
Niagra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cowsills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Black Dice,
Sarah Menescal,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.