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 Eritrea and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric Dolphy to the punk 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Jeru the Damaja,
This Heat,
Todd Terry,
Interpol,
Howard Jones,
Massinfluence,
Crash Course in Science,
Fatback Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Newcleus,
The J.B.'s,
David Axelrod,
The Moody Blues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
These Immortal Souls,
Barry Ungar,
Sandy B,
Sugar Minott,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sonic Youth,
Audionom,
The Divine Comedy,
Flash Fearless,
John Holt,
Pussy Galore,
Accadde A,
Aaron Thompson,
DJ Style,
Man Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The United States of America,
Tres Demented,
Joyce Sims,
Cybotron,
The Blackbyrds,
Zero Boys,
KRS-One,
Bizarre Inc.,
LL Cool J,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Slits,
Joensuu 1685,
Livin' Joy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lungfish,
Nico,
Sex Pistols,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dual Sessions,
The Evens,
Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dirtbombs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Sherman,
The Busters,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.