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 Mauritius and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Jimmy McGriff to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
John Cale,
Steve Hackett,
The Happenings,
Altered Images,
A Certain Ratio,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Magma,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Birthday Party,
Kenny Larkin,
Janne Schatter,
Neu!,
Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Roxette,
Harmonia,
Suburban Knight,
The Kinks,
Au Pairs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Anthony Braxton,
Glenn Branca,
Lyres,
Neil Young,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry's Kids,
The Five Americans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moss Icon,
Rosa Yemen,
David Axelrod,
Jawbox,
Max Romeo,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Motions,
Graham Central Station,
Black Pus,
Juan Atkins,
the Bar-Kays,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Surgeon,
Delta 5,
Scan 7,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Enemy,
Derrick Morgan,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül,
Gang Green,
Wings,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Grass Roots,
Blake Baxter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Soulsonic Force,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.