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 Canada and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare 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 Stockholm Monsters to the punk 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
June Days,
Dave Gahan,
Severed Heads,
ABBA,
Supertramp,
Peter and Kerry,
Royal Trux,
The Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DNA,
John Lydon,
The Litter,
Ken Boothe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
The Leaves,
Aloha Tigers,
Banda Bassotti,
Sixth Finger,
The Toasters,
Monolake,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cluster,
Surgeon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald,
Radiohead,
Roxy Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Unrelated Segments,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Infiniti,
AZ,
Average White Band,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Green,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Star Department,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dead C,
Bootsy Collins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kurtis Blow,
Donny Hathaway,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Human League,
Crooked Eye,
PIL,
New York Dolls,
Bob Dylan,
The Moody Blues,
Yaz,
Scion,
Fear,
Rekid,
Ossler,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Clarke,
Kaleidoscope,
Terry Callier,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.