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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron 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 The Motions to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aloha Tigers,
Easy Going,
Unrelated Segments,
Bauhaus,
Michelle Simonal,
The Remains,
Rekid,
The Velvet Underground,
Minor Threat,
Los Fastidios,
Bill Wells,
Albert Ayler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Main Source,
The Busters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Association,
Radio Birdman,
the Swans,
Throbbing Gristle,
kango's stein massive,
Wings,
Kayak,
Colin Newman,
Scratch Acid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sparks,
B.T. Express,
In Retrospect,
Alice Coltrane,
The Star Department,
The Toasters,
Ten City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moby Grape,
Cal Tjader,
Y Pants,
Black Flag,
Lyres,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bush Tetras,
the Germs,
T.S.O.L.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Wyatt,
Gabor Szabo,
cv313,
Ohio Players,
Ultra Naté,
Malaria!,
Ludus,
Brick,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Womack,
Fear,
Oblivians,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.