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 Georgia and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Stooges to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Mantronix,
F. McDonald,
L. Decosne,
Groovy Waters,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Halsall,
Minnie Riperton,
Porter Ricks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T. Rex,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
Barclay James Harvest,
E-Dancer,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sparks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bootsy Collins,
Reagan Youth,
The Zeros,
R.M.O.,
the Bar-Kays,
Iggy Pop,
Ultravox,
a-ha,
Faust,
Essential Logic,
Accadde A,
Darondo,
Josef K,
Pere Ubu,
Black Pus,
Scrapy,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aswad,
Harry Pussy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
The Neon Judgement,
Hardrive,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warsaw,
K-Klass,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fatback Band,
The Pop Group,
Cecil Taylor,
Depeche Mode,
JFA,
Franke,
Stiv Bators,
Bluetip,
Lindisfarne,
John Cale,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
The Raincoats,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.