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 Poland and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oneida to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Last Poets,
The Fortunes,
Darondo,
Lakeside,
Skriet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Flag,
Slave,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sam Rivers,
Basic Channel,
China Crisis,
Camberwell Now,
Babytalk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Godley & Creme,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Trojans,
The Misunderstood,
Skaos,
Peter and Kerry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hardrive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dual Sessions,
Tom Boy,
Swell Maps,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pantytec,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Bananas,
Mars,
Slick Rick,
Altered Images,
The Index,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Intrusion,
Judy Mowatt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stetsasonic,
The Zeros,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Almond,
Excepter,
The Blues Magoos,
Stiv Bators,
Graham Central Station,
Sexual Harrassment,
Colin Newman,
Lightning Bolt,
Das Ding,
The Kinks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Television Personalities,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.