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 Ethiopia and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Reagan Youth,
The Fortunes,
Joyce Sims,
The Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Wyatt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Wake,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Country Teasers,
Black Pus,
Boredoms,
Johnny Clarke,
Cybotron,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Inner City,
Outsiders,
Radiohead,
Glambeats Corp.,
Trumans Water,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deadbeat,
Kerri Chandler,
Absolute Body Control,
Darondo,
Stetsasonic,
Main Source,
The Monochrome Set,
Flash Fearless,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed,
Bootsy Collins,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Invisible,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pantaleimon,
Bang On A Can,
David Bowie,
Godley & Creme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Clear Light,
Scion,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brothers Johnson,
The Raincoats,
Groovy Waters,
the Germs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Unwound,
Vainqueur,
Electric Prunes,
The Standells,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
Monolake,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.