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 Mauritania and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Tres Demented to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ossler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Misunderstood,
Ludus,
Newcleus,
Dark Day,
Alison Limerick,
Inner City,
Sun City Girls,
Blancmange,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ossler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Unwound,
The Standells,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
Colin Newman,
John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Moody Blues,
Althea and Donna,
Hot Snakes,
Jawbox,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Byrd,
The Grass Roots,
The Skatalites,
World's Most,
Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Gabor Szabo,
Davy DMX,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
Brick,
Aswad,
DNA,
David Axelrod,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wire,
Scott Walker,
MC5,
John Coltrane,
Scion,
The Monks,
Bluetip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxette,
Nik Kershaw,
Scratch Acid,
Dave Gahan,
Cymande,
Ohio Players,
The Offenders,
The Stooges,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.