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 Venezuela and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 Gang of Four to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Silicon Teens,
Davy DMX,
Anthony Braxton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Barracudas,
Black Flag,
Massinfluence,
The Associates,
Yellowson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronan,
Pagans,
Y Pants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Bar-Kays,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Kerrie Biddell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
MDC,
Max Romeo,
Black Pus,
Nick Fraelich,
Godley & Creme,
The Electric Prunes,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Modern Lovers,
Sam Rivers,
Model 500,
Leonard Cohen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cameo,
The Martian,
The New Christs,
Ossler,
the Germs,
Joensuu 1685,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donny Hathaway,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Los Fastidios,
Wolf Eyes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Audionom,
Blake Baxter,
Swell Maps,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül,
The Invisible,
Chrome,
Toni Rubio,
The Names,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.