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 Slovakia and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the punk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dead C,
Technova,
Aural Exciters,
Albert Ayler,
Fluxion,
The Raincoats,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Easy Going,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MC5,
Kerrie Biddell,
Audionom,
Young Marble Giants,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Seeds,
Parry Music,
David Bowie,
Adolescents,
Bronski Beat,
10cc,
the Sonics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yazoo,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Inner City,
Black Moon,
Skarface,
Average White Band,
Magazine,
Glenn Branca,
Rod Modell,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gun Club,
Bob Dylan,
Juan Atkins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
UT,
Marmalade,
Toni Rubio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fear,
Tom Boy,
Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s,
Sällskapet,
Kenny Larkin,
Q and Not U,
The Cramps,
The Blackbyrds,
Andrew Hill,
The Detroit Cobras,
Simply Red,
Jacques Brel,
Deakin,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.