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 Botswana and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hasil Adkins to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Babytalk,
Amon Düül,
Blancmange,
PIL,
Ituana,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Sonics,
Ponytail,
Intrusion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pierre Henry,
Ice-T,
The Selecter,
The Walker Brothers,
Infiniti,
Glenn Branca,
Radio Birdman,
The Fugs,
The Golliwogs,
Ten City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Don Cherry,
Joe Finger,
New Order,
Oblivians,
Outsiders,
The Tremeloes,
Bauhaus,
June of 44,
Mandrill,
Patti Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fuzztones,
Kas Product,
Erykah Badu,
Adolescents,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Robert Görl,
Gang of Four,
Arab on Radar,
T. Rex,
Motorama,
Duran Duran,
Graham Central Station,
Flash Fearless,
The Names,
Scan 7,
LL Cool J,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minutemen,
Steve Hackett,
The Young Rascals,
The Monochrome Set,
Godley & Creme,
Saccharine Trust,
DJ Style,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.