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 Suriname and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 Dead C to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Y Pants,
The Victims,
Wire,
The Real Kids,
Technova,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sun Ra,
Jandek,
The Walker Brothers,
Trumans Water,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joey Negro,
Youth Brigade,
Procol Harum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pylon,
Freddie Wadling,
Connie Case,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Wyatt,
Oneida,
Organ,
Darondo,
Flipper,
Yellowson,
Ponytail,
Roxy Music,
Parry Music,
Jerry's Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Excepter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hardrive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lindisfarne,
Lungfish,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
AZ,
Section 25,
John Lydon,
Monks,
Bill Wells,
Delta 5,
Robert Hood,
Carl Craig,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.