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 Netherlands and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Oblivians to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
The Busters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Slackers,
Siglo XX,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donald Byrd,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arthur Verocai,
Average White Band,
Maurizio,
Nico,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Pop Group,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cure,
Aswad,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grauzone,
Minny Pops,
Minutemen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Terry,
a-ha,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Hardrive,
Khruangbin,
Procol Harum,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arab on Radar,
Anthony Braxton,
Moby Grape,
Gong,
Delon & Dalcan,
Interpol,
Pylon,
The Vogues,
Stereo Dub,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Sound,
Adolescents,
Spandau Ballet,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
Cymande,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.