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 Russia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kerri Chandler,
Sällskapet,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brothers Johnson,
FM Einheit,
Wire,
Hardrive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Enemy,
Gong,
The Pop Group,
Minutemen,
Schoolly D,
Banda Bassotti,
Brick,
Maurizio,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Eli Mardock,
Byron Stingily,
La Düsseldorf,
Unwound,
T.S.O.L.,
Kerrie Biddell,
DJ Style,
The Red Krayola,
Ornette Coleman,
AZ,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Standells,
Surgeon,
Reuben Wilson,
Rites of Spring,
Roger Hodgson,
Quadrant,
Lalo Schifrin,
Steve Hackett,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra,
Theoretical Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
Loose Ends,
Country Joe & The Fish,
JFA,
Drive Like Jehu,
Monks,
Prince Buster,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fuzztones,
Al Stewart,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.