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 Tajikistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Busters to the disco 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Monochrome Set,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tears for Fears,
Anakelly,
The Saints,
The Martian,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pussy Galore,
These Immortal Souls,
Oblivians,
ABBA,
AZ,
Howard Jones,
Donny Hathaway,
Sugar Minott,
The Barracudas,
Lalann,
Duran Duran,
Mars,
Blancmange,
Sandy B,
Wally Richardson,
The Stooges,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
a-ha,
T.S.O.L.,
Lightning Bolt,
Spoonie Gee,
The Human League,
Jawbox,
Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rosa Yemen,
H. Thieme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ronnie Foster,
Jeff Mills,
Donald Byrd,
Sarah Menescal,
Junior Murvin,
Lyres,
Gong,
LL Cool J,
Sexual Harrassment,
Trumans Water,
Swell Maps,
Ronan,
Erasure,
Gichy Dan,
Khruangbin,
Metal Thangz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Walker Brothers,
John Cale,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.