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 Kazakhstan and from Johannesburg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Gregory Isaacs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Underground Resistance,
T.S.O.L.,
Dark Day,
Quando Quango,
The Neon Judgement,
Monolake,
Youth Brigade,
Franke,
Tom Boy,
Lalann,
Adolescents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radio Birdman,
the Germs,
The Skatalites,
Das Ding,
The Modern Lovers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Theoretical Girls,
Half Japanese,
Chris Corsano,
Barry Ungar,
Deakin,
Scratch Acid,
Ultravox,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Sneak,
Monks,
Jandek,
The Birthday Party,
Michelle Simonal,
Cymande,
the Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bauhaus,
Unrelated Segments,
The Index,
Brothers Johnson,
E-Dancer,
In Retrospect,
The Smoke,
Intrusion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ituana,
Severed Heads,
Boz Scaggs,
Slick Rick,
Graham Central Station,
Godley & Creme,
John Cale,
Parry Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
D'Angelo,
Alison Limerick,
Swell Maps,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scan 7,
Robert Görl,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.