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 Cambodia and from Bremen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Ronnie Foster to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Clarke,
Agitation Free,
The Moleskins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arthur Verocai,
Dead Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Blake Baxter,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Saints,
Nik Kershaw,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Livin' Joy,
Monolake,
Kerri Chandler,
Whodini,
John Cale,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moss Icon,
Index,
The Remains,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slick Rick,
Masters at Work,
Swans,
Prince Buster,
Kas Product,
Eddi Front,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arcadia,
The Evens,
Joe Smooth,
Yellowson,
Circle Jerks,
Ultravox,
Electric Prunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fela Kuti,
Animal Collective,
ABC,
Stetsasonic,
Depeche Mode,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Delta 5,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David McCallum,
Eden Ahbez,
Soul Sonic Force,
Interpol,
Sight & Sound,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neu!,
Rites of Spring,
LL Cool J,
Suburban Knight,
Silicon Teens,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.