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 Sri Lanka and from Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Inner City to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
the Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minutemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Liliput,
The Angels of Light,
Intrusion,
Dennis Brown,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultra Naté,
Altered Images,
Idris Muhammad,
Mo-Dettes,
Pole,
Minnie Riperton,
Glenn Branca,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sparks,
Quando Quango,
The Smoke,
Harry Pussy,
EPMD,
One Last Wish,
Isaac Hayes,
Moby Grape,
John Coltrane,
Darondo,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
Cameo,
The Offenders,
Lightning Bolt,
Das Ding,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Cale,
Metal Thangz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Siglo XX,
The Dead C,
Section 25,
This Heat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Sherman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Junior Murvin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
Panda Bear,
Gichy Dan,
Sonic Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wings,
The Five Americans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Magma,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.