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 Fiji and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Jandek to the rock 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Unwound,
Pole,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arthur Verocai,
Monolake,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
KRS-One,
Brick,
Sun City Girls,
New York Dolls,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ronan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cecil Taylor,
Junior Murvin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ponytail,
Country Teasers,
Mars,
Qualms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Zapp,
a-ha,
John Holt,
John Cale,
Sugar Minott,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
B.T. Express,
Slave,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dead Boys,
The Slits,
Grey Daturas,
Circle Jerks,
Sällskapet,
Brothers Johnson,
Marmalade,
Ice-T,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hasil Adkins,
Pulsallama,
Mandrill,
Eden Ahbez,
Groovy Waters,
The Buckinghams,
Boredoms,
Deakin,
Rites of Spring,
Subhumans,
Cal Tjader,
Tom Boy,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Porter Ricks,
Japan,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.