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 San Marino and from Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Flesh Eaters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Mars,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Stereo Dub,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
David McCallum,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Neu!,
The Saints,
Lou Christie,
the Soft Cell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
FM Einheit,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tubeway Army,
Pierre Henry,
Goldenarms,
Khruangbin,
Simply Red,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harry Pussy,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Association,
The Fall,
The Fuzztones,
Country Teasers,
Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
Joe Finger,
Slave,
Buzzcocks,
Moby Grape,
Cluster,
Half Japanese,
Cymande,
E-Dancer,
The Walker Brothers,
Supertramp,
Bill Wells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Suburban Knight,
Bush Tetras,
Angry Samoans,
The Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Joe Smooth,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Doors,
Aswad,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Stooges,
DJ Sneak,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Sparks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The New Christs,
Ronnie Foster,
Pantaleimon,
Scrapy,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.