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 Taiwan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Harmonia to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Hill,
Sandy B,
Cybotron,
The Grass Roots,
Tres Demented,
Q and Not U,
Niagra,
The Offenders,
Organ,
Sound Behaviour,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers,
The Blackbyrds,
Cymande,
The Searchers,
Pulsallama,
Nils Olav,
Little Man,
Liliput,
Q65,
Hot Snakes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grauzone,
John Lydon,
EPMD,
Second Layer,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amon Düül,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
Joy Division,
Fat Boys,
Severed Heads,
Susan Cadogan,
Wolf Eyes,
Gong,
Malaria!,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Görl,
the Sonics,
Charles Mingus,
Agitation Free,
Outsiders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wally Richardson,
Rotary Connection,
Toni Rubio,
Scientists,
Lebanon Hanover,
The New Christs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hashim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gladiators,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.