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 Benin and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New York Dolls to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronan,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
Guru Guru,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
The Invisible,
The Techniques,
Ultravox,
ABC,
Swell Maps,
Camouflage,
Con Funk Shun,
Ornette Coleman,
kango's stein massive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chrome,
The Saints,
Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rufus Thomas,
Pylon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Mills,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Sällskapet,
Swans,
Steve Hackett,
Amazonics,
Tres Demented,
The Fall,
Flipper,
Icehouse,
The Monks,
Joy Division,
Scan 7,
Brick,
Procol Harum,
The Gladiators,
Boredoms,
The Gories,
Davy DMX,
Kenny Larkin,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
Wally Richardson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Martian,
The Durutti Column,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Glenn Branca,
Marmalade,
Nils Olav,
Blake Baxter,
The Last Poets,
X-Ray Spex,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.