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 Belize and from New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 The Gun Club to the electroclash 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Moody Blues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Warren Ellis,
Oneida,
The Victims,
Eric Dolphy,
Gong,
Public Enemy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Au Pairs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
AZ,
UT,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Babytalk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Delta 5,
Black Flag,
Sonic Youth,
Kayak,
Wasted Youth,
Index,
Joe Smooth,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Japan,
Nils Olav,
Crispian St. Peters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Byrd,
Flipper,
Todd Rundgren,
Cymande,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
E-Dancer,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gun Club,
The Angels of Light,
Q65,
Henry Cow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rotary Connection,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Hasil Adkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Zeros,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
Donald Byrd,
Sister Nancy,
Dual Sessions,
Amazonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.