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 Paraguay and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Germs to the grime 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Clear Light,
June Days,
Nico,
Erykah Badu,
Joy Division,
Cluster,
Davy DMX,
Deadbeat,
Visage,
The Standells,
Aloha Tigers,
Derrick May,
Tim Buckley,
Andrew Hill,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Babytalk,
Quadrant,
Radio Birdman,
Technova,
Parry Music,
Bluetip,
Warren Ellis,
The Invisible,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roxette,
Al Stewart,
UT,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Starr,
Susan Cadogan,
MC5,
Max Romeo,
The J.B.'s,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Guru Guru,
David Axelrod,
Bill Near,
Surgeon,
Wolf Eyes,
Monks,
Ken Boothe,
F. McDonald,
The Evens,
Eddi Front,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ronan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amon Düül II,
Boogie Down Productions,
a-ha,
Minny Pops,
Quando Quango,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.