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 Bolivia and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Marc Almond to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
The Litter,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Byrd,
Mad Mike,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Delon & Dalcan,
Robert Görl,
Kaleidoscope,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liliput,
Excepter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Graham Central Station,
Yaz,
Tears for Fears,
Suburban Knight,
John Foxx,
Crooked Eye,
Brick,
Matthew Halsall,
Cybotron,
Chris & Cosey,
The Motions,
The Music Machine,
Rakim,
Scientists,
Tubeway Army,
Funky Four + One,
Wings,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scratch Acid,
K-Klass,
Anthony Braxton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gong,
the Swans,
Talk Talk,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Von Mondo,
Don Cherry,
the Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Dolphy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chrome,
ABBA,
Organ,
Smog,
Hoover,
Television Personalities,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Interpol,
Country Joe & The Fish,
E-Dancer,
Tropical Tobacco,
Henry Cow,
Kenny Larkin,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.