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 Guinea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Los Fastidios to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oneida,
Organ,
Unrelated Segments,
Marmalade,
Pussy Galore,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sam Rivers,
Pere Ubu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Scratch Acid,
These Immortal Souls,
10cc,
Cecil Taylor,
The Monks,
Roxy Music,
Kurtis Blow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Bananas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Al Stewart,
Nico,
Funky Four + One,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Absolute Body Control,
The Remains,
Nik Kershaw,
Porter Ricks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kerri Chandler,
Josef K,
Nick Fraelich,
Urselle,
Wire,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The J.B.'s,
The Moody Blues,
Scientists,
Symarip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gories,
Barrington Levy,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
the Soft Cell,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Suicide,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ludus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joyce Sims,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Wells,
The Gun Club,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.