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 Germany and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum 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 Lyres to the punk 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
John Cale,
Chris Corsano,
Vainqueur,
Anthony Braxton,
Gong,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed,
The Gun Club,
Popol Vuh,
Angry Samoans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
The Raincoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
Piero Umiliani,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mojo Men,
Mr. Review,
Echospace,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ituana,
The Knickerbockers,
Symarip,
Siglo XX,
Darondo,
The Fortunes,
Monolake,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantytec,
The Smiths,
Unwound,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roxette,
Sex Pistols,
Interpol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Star Department,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
Eli Mardock,
Parry Music,
Fugazi,
Man Parrish,
Radiohead,
The Durutti Column,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
EPMD,
Tom Boy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.