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 Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Lydon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
Sarah Menescal,
The Music Machine,
Easy Going,
Dead Boys,
The Pretty Things,
The Gun Club,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Agent Orange,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Swell Maps,
Pantaleimon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fire Engines,
Tres Demented,
Bang On A Can,
Inner City,
Radio Birdman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Japan,
Y Pants,
The Monochrome Set,
Liliput,
the Slits,
Soul Sonic Force,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pylon,
Davy DMX,
The Victims,
Mandrill,
Donald Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
The Star Department,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barry Ungar,
Joy Division,
R.M.O.,
Idris Muhammad,
Steve Hackett,
Malaria!,
The Associates,
Kenny Larkin,
Nik Kershaw,
Newcleus,
Pagans,
Moss Icon,
Royal Trux,
Clear Light,
Black Flag,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Blues Magoos,
Bronski Beat,
Crime,
The Fall,
Jimmy McGriff,
Country Teasers,
Soft Cell,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.