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 Lesotho and from Seoul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Glenn Branca 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Erykah Badu,
Cameo,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Seeds,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sarah Menescal,
June of 44,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ice-T,
Von Mondo,
ABC,
The Vogues,
AZ,
Masters at Work,
Dawn Penn,
The Residents,
Skaos,
Eddi Front,
Unwound,
Banda Bassotti,
Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Jeff Mills,
Model 500,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Real Kids,
DJ Style,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dennis Brown,
Leonard Cohen,
Surgeon,
Wings,
Index,
Crime,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Qualms,
In Retrospect,
Aloha Tigers,
Piero Umiliani,
Shuggie Otis,
Tubeway Army,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang On A Can,
the Fania All-Stars,
Morten Harket,
Q and Not U,
Gabor Szabo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joensuu 1685,
Inner City,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Starr,
Slick Rick,
The Dead C,
Man Parrish,
The Red Krayola,
The Fall,
Avey Tare,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.