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 Liechtenstein and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dave Gahan to the rap 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nick Fraelich,
Swans,
The Litter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Grey Daturas,
Dennis Brown,
Skarface,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Moody Blues,
Henry Cow,
Los Fastidios,
The Fall,
R.M.O.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sonny Sharrock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moebius,
Joyce Sims,
Glenn Branca,
ABBA,
Nik Kershaw,
Jerry's Kids,
Interpol,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
KRS-One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Stereo Dub,
Metal Thangz,
Aloha Tigers,
Make Up,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fear,
Scott Walker,
The Zeros,
Steve Hackett,
Don Cherry,
Erykah Badu,
Al Stewart,
The Raincoats,
Scrapy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reagan Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neu!,
Spandau Ballet,
Minutemen,
Patti Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric Copeland,
The Gun Club,
Dark Day,
Simply Red,
Buzzcocks,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.