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 Senegal and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Chris Corsano to the grunge 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Bang On A Can,
Jimmy McGriff,
Delon & Dalcan,
Animal Collective,
Monks,
Skriet,
Wally Richardson,
Eddi Front,
Flash Fearless,
Yaz,
Brick,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soul II Soul,
Terry Callier,
Susan Cadogan,
Basic Channel,
The Move,
kango's stein massive,
Dual Sessions,
Black Flag,
Lakeside,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brothers Johnson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stiv Bators,
Outsiders,
Josef K,
Gang Green,
The Index,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hot Snakes,
The Real Kids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oblivians,
Bobby Hutcherson,
48th St. Collective,
Porter Ricks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeff Lynne,
Sound Behaviour,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Last Poets,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rapeman,
David Bowie,
Agitation Free,
Matthew Bourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Cluster,
Underground Resistance,
Marine Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sparks,
Bush Tetras,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Fraelich,
Laurel Aitken,
The Music Machine,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.