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 Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar 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 Morten Harket to the jazz 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deepchord,
Tears for Fears,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Saccharine Trust,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
Q and Not U,
Albert Ayler,
Sarah Menescal,
Derrick Morgan,
David McCallum,
a-ha,
Lee Hazlewood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida,
Bauhaus,
Trumans Water,
The Gun Club,
Pere Ubu,
The Happenings,
The Sonics,
Guru Guru,
Public Enemy,
Franke,
Pantaleimon,
Chrome,
Gichy Dan,
the Slits,
E-Dancer,
Eric Dolphy,
Pagans,
DJ Sneak,
Suburban Knight,
Television,
Ituana,
Swans,
David Bowie,
Pylon,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gories,
The Martian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Sherman,
Arcadia,
The Names,
Joensuu 1685,
Hasil Adkins,
The Human League,
Darondo,
Tommy Roe,
Nils Olav,
Section 25,
June of 44,
The Five Americans,
Index,
Amazonics,
Lower 48,
The Victims,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.