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 Denmark and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Soft Cell to the crunk 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates 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?
The Pretty Things,
Bill Wells,
Eden Ahbez,
Massinfluence,
Bush Tetras,
Ponytail,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deepchord,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Pop Group,
Black Flag,
The Mummies,
MC5,
Fugazi,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Girls At Our Best!,
Reagan Youth,
Davy DMX,
Leonard Cohen,
The Birthday Party,
Funky Four + One,
Fear,
Godley & Creme,
Circle Jerks,
T. Rex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-101,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
Lightning Bolt,
The Walker Brothers,
Anthony Braxton,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
Depeche Mode,
Eli Mardock,
The Barracudas,
Swans,
Scrapy,
a-ha,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Can,
Donny Hathaway,
The Raincoats,
London Community Gospel Choir,
KRS-One,
Accadde A,
Procol Harum,
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
Slick Rick,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.