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 Trinidad & Tobago and from New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Hood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Pole,
Eddi Front,
Oblivians,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Quantec,
The Barracudas,
Zapp,
Bill Wells,
Suicide,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Monks,
Mo-Dettes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Black Dice,
Livin' Joy,
Half Japanese,
Bill Near,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Amon Düül II,
The Golliwogs,
The Fuzztones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Sheep,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
FM Einheit,
Henry Cow,
Joey Negro,
U.S. Maple,
Patti Smith,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun City Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
R.M.O.,
Cecil Taylor,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Niagra,
Rapeman,
Drexciya,
Derrick May,
Brothers Johnson,
Skaos,
Arthur Verocai,
Tommy Roe,
Eli Mardock,
Judy Mowatt,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Alice Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Infiniti,
Lyres,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.