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 Dominica and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Skarface to the dance 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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Barrington Levy,
Soft Machine,
Easy Going,
Bill Near,
Wings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Iggy Pop,
Bad Manners,
Grauzone,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Swans,
Drexciya,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
La Düsseldorf,
Slave,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dark Day,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
Minor Threat,
Leonard Cohen,
Can,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Neu!,
The Standells,
Sixth Finger,
Deadbeat,
Pere Ubu,
Swans,
The Offenders,
E-Dancer,
Harmonia,
Skaos,
The Fall,
Faust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Technova,
Youth Brigade,
kango's stein massive,
MDC,
The Mojo Men,
Au Pairs,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric Dolphy,
Ponytail,
Howard Jones,
Warren Ellis,
Lower 48,
The Sonics,
Agent Orange,
Jacques Brel,
The Vogues,
Oneida,
Harry Pussy,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.