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 Poland and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Theoretical Girls 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Angry Samoans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
Television,
John Coltrane,
Half Japanese,
Archie Shepp,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Davy DMX,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
Alice Coltrane,
La Düsseldorf,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
kango's stein massive,
Spoonie Gee,
E-Dancer,
David Bowie,
Godley & Creme,
Grauzone,
Sixth Finger,
Fatback Band,
Minutemen,
The Cowsills,
Altered Images,
Yaz,
Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cramps,
The Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Roy Ayers,
Dead Boys,
Black Flag,
Scion,
Neil Young,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marine Girls,
Swell Maps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Flipper,
Max Romeo,
The Gun Club,
Gang of Four,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Los Fastidios,
Dark Day,
Lakeside,
Dave Gahan,
Model 500,
Radio Birdman,
Mission of Burma,
The Modern Lovers,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.