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 Georgia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Don Cherry to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
PIL,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Teasers,
Hardrive,
The Modern Lovers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alice Coltrane,
The New Christs,
Surgeon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
Grey Daturas,
Ultravox,
Alphaville,
Franke,
Pantaleimon,
Magazine,
The Moleskins,
Dave Gahan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lungfish,
The Velvet Underground,
Monolake,
David Axelrod,
Bob Dylan,
The Sonics,
Ice-T,
The Music Machine,
Graham Central Station,
Gang of Four,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Mills,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
AZ,
Alison Limerick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Q and Not U,
Japan,
T.S.O.L.,
Cheater Slicks,
CMW,
Skriet,
The Pop Group,
Boz Scaggs,
Moss Icon,
Reuben Wilson,
Kas Product,
the Normal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scientists,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
Hot Snakes,
The Residents,
The Cure,
Skaos,
Little Man,
Jimmy McGriff,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.