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 Laos and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Franke 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Jandek,
Boogie Down Productions,
Von Mondo,
The Seeds,
Fluxion,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Trojans,
Rotary Connection,
Malaria!,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rosa Yemen,
Cybotron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lucky Dragons,
Matthew Halsall,
Hoover,
Marmalade,
the Swans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
PIL,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Banda Bassotti,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tears for Fears,
Audionom,
The Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Osbourne,
Derrick Morgan,
Ponytail,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mantronix,
Isaac Hayes,
Cheater Slicks,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter and Kerry,
Soft Cell,
Inner City,
Guru Guru,
Roger Hodgson,
Lalann,
Jacob Miller,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nik Kershaw,
The Litter,
Eric Dolphy,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sällskapet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.