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 Cairo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Man Parrish to the punk 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Siglo XX,
The Victims,
Crash Course in Science,
Slick Rick,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Spoonie Gee,
Janne Schatter,
ABC,
Harry Pussy,
Tubeway Army,
Depeche Mode,
Hasil Adkins,
Second Layer,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sixth Finger,
The Searchers,
Barrington Levy,
Erasure,
The Walker Brothers,
The Raincoats,
Kas Product,
The Mummies,
The Moleskins,
Massinfluence,
Stiv Bators,
Dual Sessions,
Ludus,
Matthew Bourne,
Alphaville,
The Gladiators,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Skatalites,
Warsaw,
The Barracudas,
Stetsasonic,
Henry Cow,
Sun City Girls,
Mr. Review,
Ice-T,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DJ Sneak,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flamin' Groovies,
Magazine,
Sound Behaviour,
Inner City,
Interpol,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare,
Donny Hathaway,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Black Bananas,
Mission of Burma,
The Stooges,
Faust,
10cc,
Darondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.