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 Norway and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Yazoo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
The Monks,
The Names,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ten City,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scott Walker,
Sugar Minott,
Delta 5,
Black Sheep,
Loose Ends,
This Heat,
The Young Rascals,
F. McDonald,
Wings,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Angels of Light,
Scrapy,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
Gong,
Moss Icon,
Tom Boy,
Supertramp,
Dead Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
The Seeds,
Slick Rick,
John Foxx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cowsills,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mark Hollis,
The Trojans,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deakin,
The Real Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sällskapet,
Eden Ahbez,
Cheater Slicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Ponytail,
Quantec,
Andrew Hill,
Altered Images,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.