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 Switzerland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 David McCallum to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Audionom,
Joe Finger,
Rhythm & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roger Hodgson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Howard Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Grey Daturas,
Animal Collective,
Rapeman,
Jerry's Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
AZ,
The Golliwogs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Subhumans,
Blossom Toes,
Cameo,
Laurel Aitken,
Pole,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slits,
Gang Green,
Barbara Tucker,
Thompson Twins,
Amon Düül II,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aural Exciters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Beau Brummels,
Soulsonic Force,
Magazine,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Reuben Wilson,
Flash Fearless,
Half Japanese,
Bootsy Collins,
Sparks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sam Rivers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Groovy Waters,
Marmalade,
Tubeway Army,
Faraquet,
a-ha,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tim Buckley,
Charles Mingus,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.