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 Kazakhstan and from London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Byron Stingily to the rap 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Skarface,
T. Rex,
Black Bananas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hoover,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Michelle Simonal,
Royal Trux,
Laurel Aitken,
Ultimate Spinach,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
Lalann,
The Monochrome Set,
X-Ray Spex,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flipper,
LL Cool J,
Black Flag,
Monolake,
Bobby Womack,
Black Moon,
Ponytail,
Motorama,
Al Stewart,
The Gories,
Jawbox,
Tommy Roe,
Terry Callier,
Roxette,
Pantytec,
the Normal,
PIL,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fugazi,
The Flesh Eaters,
Archie Shepp,
Cymande,
Au Pairs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Severed Heads,
Roxy Music,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stockholm Monsters,
Schoolly D,
Lower 48,
David McCallum,
Aaron Thompson,
Matthew Halsall,
Dead Boys,
Minutemen,
The Fugs,
Johnny Clarke,
Danielle Patucci,
Jandek,
Leonard Cohen,
Fear,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.