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 Kiribati and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bill Near to the crunk 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Glambeats Corp.,
Flash Fearless,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Bananas,
Jawbox,
Hardrive,
The Saints,
Siglo XX,
The Tremeloes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bronski Beat,
The Fortunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smoke,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
Sandy B,
Black Moon,
Monks,
The Motions,
ABC,
Deakin,
Bootsy Collins,
Yazoo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang of Four,
The Mummies,
Section 25,
Fear,
the Normal,
Juan Atkins,
Wire,
Alice Coltrane,
Leonard Cohen,
Ronan,
Amon Düül,
Popol Vuh,
Quando Quango,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pere Ubu,
Hasil Adkins,
Jerry's Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Techniques,
Fatback Band,
Gang Green,
The Offenders,
The Wake,
In Retrospect,
JFA,
Joe Smooth,
New Order,
Mandrill,
Brick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rod Modell,
Donny Hathaway,
Television,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.