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 Somalia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joey Negro to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jacob Miller,
Siglo XX,
The Busters,
Blake Baxter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Moon,
Tommy Roe,
Make Up,
The Dirtbombs,
Main Source,
Boredoms,
Zero Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Kas Product,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash,
Warren Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Quadrant,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Camberwell Now,
Amon Düül II,
Wings,
Cheater Slicks,
The Beau Brummels,
CMW,
Godley & Creme,
MDC,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dave Clark Five,
Todd Terry,
Soul II Soul,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
Maleditus Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Byrd,
John Holt,
Agent Orange,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Womack,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fluxion,
Pulsallama,
Sonic Youth,
Yellowson,
Aural Exciters,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.