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 Saudi Arabia and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pere Ubu to the funk 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Cluster,
Tubeway Army,
Supertramp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo,
John Coltrane,
Vladislav Delay,
D'Angelo,
Maleditus Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Grauzone,
The Beau Brummels,
The Searchers,
The Raincoats,
Talk Talk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Tremeloes,
ABBA,
Robert Görl,
The Fuzztones,
Arthur Verocai,
Rekid,
The Young Rascals,
Crispian St. Peters,
Motorama,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang On A Can,
Groovy Waters,
Crime,
EPMD,
Blancmange,
Ronnie Foster,
Youth Brigade,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Make Up,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Outsiders,
Marmalade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Zeros,
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
The Residents,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Lucky Dragons,
Ludus,
Heaven 17,
Swans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Infiniti,
Pulsallama,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
Chrome,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.