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 Spain and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kayak to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Cameo,
Skarface,
Reagan Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-102,
Porter Ricks,
Popol Vuh,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Leaves,
48th St. Collective,
Terry Callier,
The Index,
A Certain Ratio,
Silicon Teens,
Chrome,
Television Personalities,
Negative Approach,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
The Slackers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Section 25,
Sun Ra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Michelle Simonal,
Metal Thangz,
K-Klass,
Yazoo,
Con Funk Shun,
Qualms,
The Skatalites,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
In Retrospect,
Q65,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fear,
John Cale,
Nik Kershaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kaleidoscope,
The Selecter,
Archie Shepp,
Gong,
Freddie Wadling,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Clear Light,
Sister Nancy,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pet Shop Boys,
Max Romeo,
Minutemen,
Can,
Royal Trux,
Average White Band,
Aswad,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.