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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Spandau Ballet to the techno 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Modern Lovers,
Tears for Fears,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy Collins,
Sandy B,
Sex Pistols,
10cc,
Skaos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pulsallama,
Nico,
Blossom Toes,
Slick Rick,
Vainqueur,
kango's stein massive,
ABBA,
a-ha,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suicide,
Gang Gang Dance,
Liliput,
The Gories,
Michelle Simonal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Depeche Mode,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fuzztones,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roxy Music,
the Bar-Kays,
Mandrill,
The Durutti Column,
The Zeros,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gladiators,
June of 44,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Techniques,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Janne Schatter,
Nik Kershaw,
Wings,
Angry Samoans,
Jacob Miller,
The Angels of Light,
Kerri Chandler,
Joyce Sims,
Rapeman,
Television,
Piero Umiliani,
Albert Ayler,
Procol Harum,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.