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 Brazil and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer 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 The Searchers to the crunk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Kenny Larkin,
Vainqueur,
Minnie Riperton,
Aloha Tigers,
James White and The Blacks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agent Orange,
Excepter,
John Cale,
The Five Americans,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sound Behaviour,
Popol Vuh,
PIL,
Lakeside,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Severed Heads,
Danielle Patucci,
H. Thieme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
Pagans,
Rekid,
The Misunderstood,
Moby Grape,
Thompson Twins,
Organ,
Absolute Body Control,
Qualms,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Holt,
Liliput,
The Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
Zapp,
Thee Headcoats,
Nico,
World's Most,
Lou Christie,
The Dead C,
The Standells,
The United States of America,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Happenings,
Michelle Simonal,
Dawn Penn,
Andrew Hill,
Barclay James Harvest,
La Düsseldorf,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
Index,
Babytalk,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.