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 Antigua and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Gun Club to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
T. Rex,
Khruangbin,
Rakim,
Slave,
Con Funk Shun,
Godley & Creme,
Quando Quango,
Iggy Pop,
Howard Jones,
Q and Not U,
ABC,
Pierre Henry,
Cameo,
The Seeds,
The Gladiators,
Country Teasers,
Joe Smooth,
Trumans Water,
The American Breed,
David Bowie,
Drexciya,
The Toasters,
U.S. Maple,
Rod Modell,
The Velvet Underground,
Intrusion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Raincoats,
Joey Negro,
Rapeman,
Nick Fraelich,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Deakin,
Moss Icon,
Robert Wyatt,
Blake Baxter,
The Skatalites,
The Grass Roots,
Connie Case,
The Remains,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Can,
DNA,
Pantytec,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
MDC,
Bad Manners,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultra Naté,
Skriet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Altered Images,
Agent Orange,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
Isaac Hayes,
Byron Stingily,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.