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 Equatorial Guinea and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 H. Thieme to the electroclash 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Skriet,
Eric Dolphy,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxette,
The Cramps,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Hood,
Al Stewart,
Jawbox,
Funkadelic,
the Association,
The Busters,
Bang On A Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minutemen,
Neu!,
The Star Department,
Marine Girls,
The Monks,
Moss Icon,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Machine,
Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Michelle Simonal,
Wasted Youth,
Warsaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
JFA,
Bauhaus,
The Dead C,
New York Dolls,
Shoche,
A Certain Ratio,
The Happenings,
The Gun Club,
Robert Wyatt,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers,
Easy Going,
Thompson Twins,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
Scion,
David McCallum,
Ituana,
Danielle Patucci,
Albert Ayler,
Boz Scaggs,
Sugar Minott,
Unrelated Segments,
Grauzone,
Faraquet,
Donald Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
Slick Rick,
Duran Duran,
Fad Gadget,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
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.