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 Germany and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jandek,
Grey Daturas,
Arab on Radar,
New Order,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moleskins,
Godley & Creme,
Marc Almond,
Ultra Naté,
Eve St. Jones,
Quadrant,
Desert Stars,
Cymande,
DNA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Black Bananas,
Television Personalities,
Gang Green,
Lalann,
The Residents,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suicide,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fugs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
John Holt,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
Alton Ellis,
Alphaville,
The Moody Blues,
Tommy Roe,
The Birthday Party,
Josef K,
Junior Murvin,
The Kinks,
Davy DMX,
Spandau Ballet,
Warsaw,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magma,
Interpol,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Womack,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks,
Boredoms,
U.S. Maple,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.