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 Jordan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Stooges to the crunk 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Con Funk Shun,
Lakeside,
Circle Jerks,
Henry Cow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vainqueur,
Motorama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lightning Bolt,
Essential Logic,
Sun City Girls,
Al Stewart,
Alton Ellis,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Green,
Panda Bear,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Soulsonic Force,
Urselle,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Terry,
Wire,
KRS-One,
Bill Near,
Magazine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stiv Bators,
Black Moon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moebius,
Niagra,
Scrapy,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Modern Lovers,
The Pop Group,
James White and The Blacks,
Tom Boy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minor Threat,
Livin' Joy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Archie Shepp,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
the Slits,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Mills,
Boz Scaggs,
Anakelly,
Donny Hathaway,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Banda Bassotti,
The Remains,
The Misunderstood,
Terry Callier,
Underground Resistance,
Althea and Donna,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.