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 Belarus and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Model 500 to the grunge 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Amazonics,
Aswad,
Masters at Work,
Marshall Jefferson,
Index,
Bronski Beat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brand Nubian,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Almond,
Skriet,
Stiv Bators,
Bill Wells,
Ohio Players,
Arab on Radar,
Rekid,
Intrusion,
Scion,
Smog,
The Music Machine,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hashim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Darondo,
The American Breed,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tommy Roe,
Glenn Branca,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Human League,
Wally Richardson,
Lee Hazlewood,
AZ,
The Velvet Underground,
Bauhaus,
The Black Dice,
10cc,
Zero Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Magazine,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grauzone,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Standells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Severed Heads,
Maleditus Sound,
Section 25,
CMW,
Monolake,
Eve St. Jones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
Spandau Ballet,
Brick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moss Icon,
The Sonics,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.