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 Palau and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Average White Band to the rap 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dual Sessions,
Bauhaus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Five Americans,
Prince Buster,
Spandau Ballet,
Altered Images,
Piero Umiliani,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lalann,
These Immortal Souls,
The Alarm Clocks,
In Retrospect,
Sonic Youth,
The Associates,
U.S. Maple,
Joey Negro,
Con Funk Shun,
Ossler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bill Wells,
Pulsallama,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Tears for Fears,
The Dirtbombs,
Albert Ayler,
The Slackers,
Robert Görl,
Black Bananas,
Black Flag,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
World's Most,
Au Pairs,
Maleditus Sound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mars,
New Order,
Jeff Lynne,
Young Marble Giants,
Gong,
Parry Music,
Wasted Youth,
Eric Copeland,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Al Stewart,
Rekid,
Severed Heads,
DNA,
The Count Five,
Animal Collective,
Brick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jandek,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.