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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
10cc,
Urselle,
James White and The Blacks,
Rosa Yemen,
La Düsseldorf,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Average White Band,
Eurythmics,
Drive Like Jehu,
Niagra,
Loose Ends,
Brick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cramps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mummies,
K-Klass,
Minutemen,
Monolake,
Robert Hood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smoke,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Subhumans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Graham Central Station,
Roxy Music,
Parry Music,
Jeff Lynne,
Lightning Bolt,
Pagans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Qualms,
The Music Machine,
Duran Duran,
Animal Collective,
Hot Snakes,
Malaria!,
Country Teasers,
The Real Kids,
Joy Division,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Marcia Griffiths,
Model 500,
Todd Rundgren,
The Wake,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mojo Men,
the Bar-Kays,
Zero Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bush Tetras,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.