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 Tuvalu and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Joy Division to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Arab on Radar,
Monks,
Pagans,
Liliput,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roy Ayers,
Technova,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gap Band,
Terry Callier,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultra Naté,
Y Pants,
The Victims,
Heaven 17,
Juan Atkins,
Scientists,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
Sam Rivers,
Moby Grape,
Robert Hood,
Johnny Clarke,
The Divine Comedy,
The Motions,
Lungfish,
Michelle Simonal,
Blancmange,
John Foxx,
Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Durutti Column,
Television Personalities,
Scan 7,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dawn Penn,
Darondo,
Main Source,
Man Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
Delta 5,
the Sonics,
Moebius,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Roxy Music,
Fatback Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
MC5,
Lucky Dragons,
Arthur Verocai,
Aswad,
The Doors,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sixth Finger,
Mission of Burma,
The Move,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.