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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Saccharine Trust to the rock 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
EPMD,
Eve St. Jones,
Rekid,
Andrew Hill,
Mandrill,
Scan 7,
Unrelated Segments,
Wings,
Blossom Toes,
Khruangbin,
Essential Logic,
Connie Case,
Roxette,
Althea and Donna,
Hoover,
Ossler,
The Walker Brothers,
China Crisis,
Rakim,
Crooked Eye,
The Seeds,
Technova,
Tres Demented,
The Angels of Light,
Bronski Beat,
The Blackbyrds,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
the Human League,
The Move,
The Leaves,
Drexciya,
Spandau Ballet,
Tears for Fears,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Absolute Body Control,
Shoche,
Excepter,
John Lydon,
The United States of America,
Carl Craig,
Jeru the Damaja,
Davy DMX,
Iggy Pop,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Simply Red,
The Gap Band,
The Real Kids,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eddi Front,
Rites of Spring,
FM Einheit,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter and Kerry,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.