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 Egypt and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Star Department,
Ornette Coleman,
The Birthday Party,
New Age Steppers,
The Tremeloes,
Pierre Henry,
Vainqueur,
Kaleidoscope,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Young Rascals,
Harry Pussy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Green,
Albert Ayler,
Ituana,
LL Cool J,
Absolute Body Control,
Gichy Dan,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Real Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Royal Trux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Trumans Water,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma,
Joy Division,
Lindisfarne,
Darondo,
Cymande,
Junior Murvin,
Liliput,
Lucky Dragons,
Kayak,
The Skatalites,
The Sonics,
The Smoke,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maleditus Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Fugazi,
T. Rex,
Mark Hollis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Toni Rubio,
Cheater Slicks,
The Monks,
David Axelrod,
Sister Nancy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.