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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
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 guitar 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 Velvet Underground to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Minny Pops,
Skarface,
Dawn Penn,
Cluster,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Searchers,
La Düsseldorf,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
Aloha Tigers,
Radio Birdman,
New York Dolls,
Interpol,
Agitation Free,
The Leaves,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brick,
Moebius,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fluxion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Archie Shepp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Davy DMX,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Excepter,
The Divine Comedy,
The Buckinghams,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Circle Jerks,
The Stooges,
The Knickerbockers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chris & Cosey,
Josef K,
the Human League,
Eric Dolphy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül II,
ABC,
Index,
Main Source,
Boz Scaggs,
Blake Baxter,
Scrapy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Idris Muhammad,
Pylon,
John Cale,
Cymande,
Lungfish,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.