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 Kiribati 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 The Mummies to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
the Swans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New Age Steppers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Janne Schatter,
Camouflage,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
A Certain Ratio,
John Lydon,
The Gun Club,
Joey Negro,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
T. Rex,
Underground Resistance,
Newcleus,
Scratch Acid,
Fear,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-101,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The New Christs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television Personalities,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dead C,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül,
H. Thieme,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cluster,
Donny Hathaway,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hoover,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly,
Unrelated Segments,
Alison Limerick,
Negative Approach,
Maurizio,
Mantronix,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter and Kerry,
Swans,
Laurel Aitken,
Half Japanese,
Skaos,
Arthur Verocai,
Dead Boys,
Gang Starr,
Kerri Chandler,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Human League,
The Misunderstood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Busters,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.