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 Pakistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 the Swans to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Barry Ungar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joey Negro,
Rites of Spring,
Bootsy Collins,
Funky Four + One,
The Names,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Can,
Average White Band,
The Toasters,
F. McDonald,
Isaac Hayes,
Animal Collective,
Severed Heads,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cramps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Coltrane,
Cheater Slicks,
Darondo,
Panda Bear,
Ken Boothe,
The Techniques,
Absolute Body Control,
Donald Byrd,
Malaria!,
Faust,
Visage,
David Bowie,
Bluetip,
John Foxx,
Patti Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Tim Buckley,
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
Smog,
Goldenarms,
Soft Machine,
Brand Nubian,
LL Cool J,
Bush Tetras,
Gang of Four,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Halsall,
John Lydon,
Black Sheep,
Nirvana,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
JFA,
Scientists,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.