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 East Timor and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Terrestrial Tones 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Grauzone,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dark Day,
JFA,
La Düsseldorf,
Henry Cow,
Jeff Lynne,
Tim Buckley,
Zapp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siglo XX,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gories,
Colin Newman,
Jawbox,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nils Olav,
The Sonics,
The Walker Brothers,
The Techniques,
The Barracudas,
Theoretical Girls,
Drexciya,
Fear,
Barclay James Harvest,
Loose Ends,
Model 500,
Scion,
Eurythmics,
T. Rex,
Sound Behaviour,
Nick Fraelich,
Johnny Osbourne,
Essential Logic,
Hoover,
Connie Case,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Juan Atkins,
Hashim,
Sandy B,
Alice Coltrane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Trumans Water,
Moebius,
Clear Light,
Fatback Band,
Pagans,
Bauhaus,
Mad Mike,
The Mummies,
E-Dancer,
The Remains,
Blossom Toes,
Skriet,
Young Marble Giants,
Kas Product,
Erasure,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. 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.