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 Georgia and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Reuben Wilson,
Vainqueur,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Birthday Party,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gichy Dan,
Groovy Waters,
the Germs,
Amazonics,
June Days,
Faust,
Idris Muhammad,
Henry Cow,
These Immortal Souls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skarface,
Neil Young,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rufus Thomas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crash Course in Science,
Sixth Finger,
The Saints,
Clear Light,
Depeche Mode,
Don Cherry,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q and Not U,
The Mojo Men,
One Last Wish,
Fela Kuti,
Supertramp,
Byron Stingily,
Motorama,
Essential Logic,
The Black Dice,
The Sound,
Cameo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Litter,
Con Funk Shun,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
Bush Tetras,
D'Angelo,
The Gap Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Prince Buster,
Todd Terry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Residents,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.