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 the UAE and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 the Swans to the rock 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Hoover,
Dennis Brown,
Barclay James Harvest,
Intrusion,
Silicon Teens,
The Detroit Cobras,
Matthew Bourne,
Eddi Front,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blossom Toes,
48th St. Collective,
The Angels of Light,
Suburban Knight,
This Heat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pantaleimon,
Flipper,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amon Düül II,
Iggy Pop,
Ituana,
LL Cool J,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Soft Cell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Connie Case,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Kinks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Skriet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultra Naté,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tropical Tobacco,
Television,
Roxy Music,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Style,
The Motions,
Sight & Sound,
John Coltrane,
The Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Divine Comedy,
Eurythmics,
Chris & Cosey,
Sex Pistols,
Joe Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brass Construction,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.