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 Kosovo and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Newcleus to the techno 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harry Pussy,
Connie Case,
Hashim,
The Fugs,
The Techniques,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Monks,
Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Shoche,
Infiniti,
Scrapy,
Simply Red,
Carl Craig,
Blake Baxter,
Massinfluence,
Sällskapet,
Kayak,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cecil Taylor,
Funky Four + One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dennis Brown,
Fad Gadget,
Youth Brigade,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cluster,
The Young Rascals,
The Gap Band,
Vainqueur,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Outsiders,
The Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Busters,
The Litter,
Saccharine Trust,
Sixth Finger,
Aloha Tigers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cheater Slicks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
The Black Dice,
Eurythmics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Delta 5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Procol Harum,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.