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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Animal Collective to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Hood,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marvin Gaye,
Main Source,
Y Pants,
Pagans,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Germs,
Brick,
The Moody Blues,
Unwound,
ABBA,
David Bowie,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Sight & Sound,
Rapeman,
Sex Pistols,
Sound Behaviour,
Kenny Larkin,
Steve Hackett,
Toni Rubio,
Wire,
The Seeds,
Wolf Eyes,
Junior Murvin,
Trumans Water,
The Invisible,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
Circle Jerks,
The Selecter,
The Remains,
kango's stein massive,
Moby Grape,
Arab on Radar,
Amazonics,
The Saints,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Janne Schatter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
Deepchord,
Mr. Review,
Lou Christie,
Young Marble Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jandek,
Negative Approach,
Bang On A Can,
Juan Atkins,
Mantronix,
The Sonics,
David Axelrod,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.