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 Malta and from London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Tears for Fears to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang of Four,
Q and Not U,
Alphaville,
The Gories,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T. Rex,
Freddie Wadling,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pylon,
Magazine,
Scrapy,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun Ra,
U.S. Maple,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mojo Men,
Essential Logic,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terry Callier,
The Sonics,
The Grass Roots,
China Crisis,
Kerri Chandler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minutemen,
Slick Rick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ossler,
The Searchers,
Second Layer,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lalann,
Gastr Del Sol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grey Daturas,
Janne Schatter,
Moss Icon,
Rapeman,
Suburban Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mummies,
Barry Ungar,
Black Sheep,
Suicide,
Rakim,
The Skatalites,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Velvet Underground,
Icehouse,
Marine Girls,
Bluetip,
Warsaw,
The Slits,
Hoover,
Lyres,
David Axelrod,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.