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 Russia and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the oboe 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 Throbbing Gristle to the rock 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Thee Headcoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eurythmics,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barrington Levy,
Urselle,
Von Mondo,
Adolescents,
Animal Collective,
Grauzone,
Charles Mingus,
Mars,
Crime,
Rakim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rotary Connection,
Mad Mike,
Maleditus Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Surgeon,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond,
Funkadelic,
Darondo,
Arab on Radar,
Wasted Youth,
Neil Young,
Index,
Whodini,
The Monks,
Nas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dennis Brown,
Blancmange,
Grey Daturas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sister Nancy,
Flamin' Groovies,
CMW,
Isaac Hayes,
Audionom,
Glambeats Corp.,
Supertramp,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Derrick May,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Hill,
Ken Boothe,
Rekid,
The Techniques,
The Real Kids,
Brass Construction,
Delta 5,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.