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 Lesotho and from Beijing.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Offenders to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Monochrome Set,
Gregory Isaacs,
Smog,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Radio Birdman,
Marmalade,
Television,
the Normal,
Guru Guru,
Unrelated Segments,
Liliput,
Marine Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Wire,
Darondo,
Altered Images,
Warren Ellis,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marvin Gaye,
Jacob Miller,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Wake,
Aswad,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gap Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Barracudas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nico,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cowsills,
Josef K,
The Mummies,
Tears for Fears,
The Stooges,
Mantronix,
Dennis Brown,
Laurel Aitken,
Bad Manners,
cv313,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Funkadelic,
Slave,
Eden Ahbez,
Ossler,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bootsy Collins,
Wings,
Jawbox,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.