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 Guinea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the techno 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hasil Adkins,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oblivians,
The Angels of Light,
Stiv Bators,
DNA,
Tears for Fears,
Letta Mbulu,
Rosa Yemen,
Sparks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nils Olav,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
Negative Approach,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pantytec,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül II,
The New Christs,
Nick Fraelich,
the Normal,
Duran Duran,
Underground Resistance,
Derrick Morgan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Sheep,
Nas,
Kerri Chandler,
Oneida,
MC5,
Marc Almond,
Sight & Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
B.T. Express,
The Seeds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeff Lynne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Youth Brigade,
E-Dancer,
Supertramp,
Sam Rivers,
a-ha,
Hoover,
the Bar-Kays,
Pere Ubu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Associates,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smoke,
Gang of Four,
Radiohead,
The Gories,
Lower 48,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Swans,
Easy Going,
The Walker Brothers,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.