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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Gang Dance to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Music Machine,
Robert Görl,
Man Eating Sloth,
Archie Shepp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thompson Twins,
Minny Pops,
Cal Tjader,
The Red Krayola,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
Albert Ayler,
Tres Demented,
Altered Images,
Brick,
Sound Behaviour,
Audionom,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Crooked Eye,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eve St. Jones,
Second Layer,
the Human League,
Lou Reed,
Camouflage,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amon Düül II,
One Last Wish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gories,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ornette Coleman,
Zapp,
10cc,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cramps,
Joy Division,
Johnny Clarke,
In Retrospect,
Half Japanese,
Susan Cadogan,
New Order,
Peter and Kerry,
The Associates,
Crash Course in Science,
Matthew Bourne,
Circle Jerks,
Byron Stingily,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeff Lynne,
Graham Central Station,
Organ,
Bronski Beat,
Hashim,
The J.B.'s,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brass Construction,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.