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 Senegal and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
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 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sparks to the electroclash 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Sound,
Guru Guru,
New York Dolls,
Henry Cow,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
L. Decosne,
Man Parrish,
Khruangbin,
T.S.O.L.,
Clear Light,
Bauhaus,
The Dead C,
MC5,
Easy Going,
Quando Quango,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Accadde A,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
The Blackbyrds,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pussy Galore,
Swell Maps,
Brothers Johnson,
The Five Americans,
The Cramps,
Average White Band,
Steve Hackett,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Invisible,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stereo Dub,
Drexciya,
Black Moon,
Symarip,
Television Personalities,
Shuggie Otis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cowsills,
John Lydon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Godley & Creme,
Franke,
Graham Central Station,
Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
Minor Threat,
Loose Ends,
Kaleidoscope,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.