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 Luxembourg 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Names to the grunge 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Black Moon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Sherman,
John Holt,
Kaleidoscope,
The Black Dice,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lalann,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sex Pistols,
Susan Cadogan,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rod Modell,
Alison Limerick,
The Invisible,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Dolphy,
The Happenings,
Anakelly,
The Monochrome Set,
La Düsseldorf,
Parry Music,
Aswad,
Cybotron,
Swell Maps,
Tommy Roe,
Erykah Badu,
Marine Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Warsaw,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gladiators,
The Raincoats,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Remains,
The Trojans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Smiths,
Lee Hazlewood,
Organ,
Andrew Hill,
Derrick May,
Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Grass Roots,
Wolf Eyes,
Monolake,
Lou Christie,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.