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 Rwanda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sonic Youth to the rock 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
New Age Steppers,
Deakin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bad Manners,
Mission of Burma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crooked Eye,
Smog,
the Swans,
Tomorrow,
Minor Threat,
Das Ding,
Tommy Roe,
Camouflage,
Excepter,
Stiv Bators,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Soft Machine,
Minutemen,
The Litter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wolf Eyes,
Todd Rundgren,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monochrome Set,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Order,
Pussy Galore,
The Remains,
Max Romeo,
Q and Not U,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monolake,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Parrish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Real Kids,
Henry Cow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Von Mondo,
Robert Görl,
Nas,
Siglo XX,
Lungfish,
Byron Stingily,
Metal Thangz,
The Standells,
Delon & Dalcan,
K-Klass,
Intrusion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The New Christs,
Minny Pops,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Hill,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.