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 Mongolia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Suicide to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Lindisfarne,
Section 25,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Bourne,
Severed Heads,
Faust,
The Sonics,
Smog,
The Music Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Bauhaus,
Howard Jones,
Archie Shepp,
Flipper,
Moebius,
Minny Pops,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
Brick,
Unrelated Segments,
The J.B.'s,
Drexciya,
Soul II Soul,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crispian St. Peters,
Isaac Hayes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tomorrow,
K-Klass,
Barry Ungar,
The Invisible,
Steve Hackett,
Banda Bassotti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
Bob Dylan,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Index,
This Heat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neu!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultravox,
The Pretty Things,
Mark Hollis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skarface,
Dave Gahan,
Urselle,
Los Fastidios,
The Skatalites,
Hardrive,
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Style,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Stiv Bators,
The Gories,
Youth Brigade,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.