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 Malaysia and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 The Wake to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Cybotron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Christie,
Graham Central Station,
Laurel Aitken,
Dark Day,
Rotary Connection,
The Litter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roger Hodgson,
Sällskapet,
Neu!,
Radio Birdman,
The Stooges,
The Remains,
Darondo,
Avey Tare,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
The Searchers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Josef K,
Boz Scaggs,
Roxy Music,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minutemen,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
Sonic Youth,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Tubeway Army,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cramps,
Groovy Waters,
Kenny Larkin,
Flash Fearless,
Porter Ricks,
the Normal,
Icehouse,
Kerri Chandler,
Eddi Front,
Eurythmics,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Sherman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Terry,
F. McDonald,
Marine Girls,
The Associates,
Qualms,
Jeff Lynne,
Sixth Finger,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.