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 Cyprus and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 New York Dolls to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Clear Light,
the Swans,
Scion,
Skarface,
Fela Kuti,
Graham Central Station,
Loose Ends,
Slick Rick,
Metal Thangz,
Bauhaus,
Babytalk,
Soft Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
Donald Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Minutemen,
Lebanon Hanover,
Warren Ellis,
Sam Rivers,
Livin' Joy,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Buzzcocks,
Deadbeat,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yaz,
Grauzone,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy Collins,
The Victims,
Monks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Funky Four + One,
kango's stein massive,
Country Teasers,
UT,
Matthew Bourne,
John Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Animal Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Al Stewart,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agent Orange,
The Red Krayola,
Kas Product,
Brothers Johnson,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sugar Minott,
Grey Daturas,
Nils Olav,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blancmange,
Jawbox,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.