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 Bahamas and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 United States of America to the grime 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Monolake,
Arab on Radar,
Dennis Brown,
Terry Callier,
The Pop Group,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
Gastr Del Sol,
X-102,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eli Mardock,
Max Romeo,
Pulsallama,
Gang Green,
Banda Bassotti,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Metal Thangz,
the Germs,
Scientists,
The Gun Club,
Stetsasonic,
The Residents,
Bad Manners,
Johnny Clarke,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gong,
Oblivians,
Qualms,
The New Christs,
Electric Prunes,
Ultra Naté,
The American Breed,
Eric Dolphy,
World's Most,
The Pretty Things,
Sparks,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
K-Klass,
The Martian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roger Hodgson,
Freddie Wadling,
the Sonics,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
Rod Modell,
Juan Atkins,
Adolescents,
Con Funk Shun,
Eurythmics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Motorama,
Hardrive,
The Walker Brothers,
Chrome,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.