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 Tunisia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Flipper,
Blancmange,
The Invisible,
Iggy Pop,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dead Boys,
Scientists,
Alton Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Moon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marshall Jefferson,
Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
Fugazi,
Cecil Taylor,
John Holt,
Carl Craig,
Lyres,
Aswad,
Byron Stingily,
The Slackers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare,
Outsiders,
Con Funk Shun,
Crash Course in Science,
Neu!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sandy B,
China Crisis,
Grauzone,
Sight & Sound,
One Last Wish,
The Beau Brummels,
the Normal,
Scan 7,
Suburban Knight,
Schoolly D,
Guru Guru,
Darondo,
MDC,
Niagra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Babytalk,
The Seeds,
The Barracudas,
The Zeros,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Star Department,
Nils Olav,
Ten City,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tommy Roe,
The Birthday Party,
Todd Rundgren,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.