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 Swaziland and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Sheep,
Hoover,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Metal Thangz,
Von Mondo,
The Blackbyrds,
The Happenings,
Rites of Spring,
Rod Modell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cowsills,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lalann,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Music Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Starr,
X-102,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nas,
The Kinks,
T. Rex,
Deepchord,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Masters at Work,
Johnny Osbourne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Pus,
Piero Umiliani,
Grauzone,
the Slits,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Supertramp,
D'Angelo,
L. Decosne,
Sound Behaviour,
Newcleus,
Chrome,
Swans,
Schoolly D,
Al Stewart,
Amazonics,
Scrapy,
The Five Americans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Make Up,
Cluster,
The Angels of Light,
The Index,
OOIOO,
Echospace,
the Fania All-Stars,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.