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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 The Five Americans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Fluxion,
Pulsallama,
Can,
Los Fastidios,
Toni Rubio,
Suburban Knight,
the Slits,
The Gap Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Scion,
Organ,
Joey Negro,
Das Ding,
Drexciya,
Graham Central Station,
Erykah Badu,
Grey Daturas,
Ohio Players,
Pantytec,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Busters,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Foxx,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
New York Dolls,
Dennis Brown,
Q and Not U,
Public Enemy,
Funkadelic,
Tom Boy,
John Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
The Smiths,
the Sonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
KRS-One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cure,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moleskins,
Slick Rick,
The Doors,
Max Romeo,
Josef K,
10cc,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Stooges,
Sight & Sound,
Alison Limerick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Kayak,
Malaria!,
The Gladiators,
Guru Guru,
JFA,
The Motions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Red Krayola,
Soulsonic Force,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.