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 Vietnam and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flamin' Groovies to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gladiators,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anthony Braxton,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Glenn Branca,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Litter,
Eric B and Rakim,
T.S.O.L.,
One Last Wish,
Erasure,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Zeros,
X-101,
Kayak,
Kas Product,
The Fugs,
Sight & Sound,
The Seeds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yazoo,
Fela Kuti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wings,
Pussy Galore,
Swans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crash Course in Science,
Panda Bear,
LL Cool J,
Crooked Eye,
Vainqueur,
Hasil Adkins,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
Chris & Cosey,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Raincoats,
Grey Daturas,
Cal Tjader,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Tremeloes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scientists,
The Busters,
Charles Mingus,
Mo-Dettes,
Cheater Slicks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doors,
Babytalk,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Red Krayola,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris Corsano,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.