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 Thailand and from Sao Paulo.
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 Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Half Japanese to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cowsills,
Joy Division,
a-ha,
In Retrospect,
The Gladiators,
Pere Ubu,
JFA,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mr. Review,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nico,
Metal Thangz,
Skarface,
Hashim,
Gichy Dan,
Monks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Magma,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Unrelated Segments,
Mars,
Goldenarms,
Brothers Johnson,
Stereo Dub,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Urselle,
Hoover,
Ornette Coleman,
Suicide,
Amazonics,
Supertramp,
B.T. Express,
Basic Channel,
Saccharine Trust,
Glenn Branca,
James White and The Blacks,
Sixth Finger,
Delta 5,
Cybotron,
Warsaw,
Rites of Spring,
Pylon,
World's Most,
Minny Pops,
Easy Going,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Franke,
Minor Threat,
Porter Ricks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minutemen,
The Victims,
The Gap Band,
The Motions,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.