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 Chile and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Donald Fagen 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 Goldenarms to the rap 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ponytail,
Roy Ayers,
Severed Heads,
Clear Light,
Outsiders,
Nils Olav,
Bob Dylan,
Scratch Acid,
Livin' Joy,
Banda Bassotti,
Mark Hollis,
the Normal,
Ken Boothe,
Amon Düül,
Neu!,
Terry Callier,
Minor Threat,
Ohio Players,
Steve Hackett,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
Joe Smooth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gladiators,
Peter and Kerry,
Brothers Johnson,
Pantytec,
Black Sheep,
This Heat,
Pet Shop Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Agent Orange,
Scrapy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Davy DMX,
Ultravox,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Real Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Faust,
Country Teasers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fear,
Sound Behaviour,
Colin Newman,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
David Bowie,
Alton Ellis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Görl,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Pretty Things,
10cc,
The Dirtbombs,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.