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 Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brothers Johnson to the techno 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fall,
Public Enemy,
Cluster,
Vainqueur,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Standells,
Sixth Finger,
The Smoke,
Schoolly D,
Ossler,
Maurizio,
Quadrant,
Lou Reed,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül,
Fatback Band,
Roxette,
Patti Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Neu!,
Dual Sessions,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
JFA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kas Product,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Görl,
The United States of America,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Black Dice,
Wasted Youth,
Niagra,
Fluxion,
The Raincoats,
Shoche,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cramps,
Dark Day,
Connie Case,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gories,
Infiniti,
Wolf Eyes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mandrill,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yellowson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Motorama,
Moby Grape,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Procol Harum,
The Count Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Pulsallama,
Slave,
This Heat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun Ra,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.