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 Germany and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Don Cherry to the dance 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
PIL,
Gang Gang Dance,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Green,
Joe Finger,
Mad Mike,
John Holt,
Theoretical Girls,
Eddi Front,
The Techniques,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Von Mondo,
Livin' Joy,
The Index,
Hasil Adkins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Idris Muhammad,
Ponytail,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joensuu 1685,
The Human League,
Main Source,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultravox,
Suburban Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Zero Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DJ Style,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Move,
Bluetip,
Hoover,
Half Japanese,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joyce Sims,
Mark Hollis,
James White and The Blacks,
Altered Images,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Silicon Teens,
the Swans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gabor Szabo,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
Pagans,
Camouflage,
Qualms,
Icehouse,
New Age Steppers,
Goldenarms,
Can,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Radiohead,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hardrive,
Janne Schatter,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.