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 Malawi and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Nirvana 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Nas,
Alice Coltrane,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rekid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nico,
Ludus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Excepter,
Delta 5,
Khruangbin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chris & Cosey,
Stetsasonic,
Glenn Branca,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Foxx,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Wyatt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hardrive,
Jeff Lynne,
Pole,
Deakin,
The Fugs,
The Buckinghams,
The Gladiators,
The J.B.'s,
Heaven 17,
LL Cool J,
X-101,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stereo Dub,
Tubeway Army,
Alphaville,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rosa Yemen,
Howard Jones,
Panda Bear,
The Alarm Clocks,
Television,
Hashim,
Crash Course in Science,
Royal Trux,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cowsills,
Theoretical Girls,
Tommy Roe,
Skriet,
Oblivians,
The Human League,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.