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 Paraguay and from New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Das Ding to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The United States of America,
Don Cherry,
The Mummies,
Jandek,
Young Marble Giants,
New Age Steppers,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-102,
EPMD,
The Grass Roots,
The Happenings,
Ken Boothe,
Infiniti,
Jacob Miller,
The Evens,
Shoche,
Section 25,
Henry Cow,
Moby Grape,
Nirvana,
Electric Prunes,
Colin Newman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Supertramp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kerrie Biddell,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Almond,
Gong,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arthur Verocai,
John Holt,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Warsaw,
The Music Machine,
Rotary Connection,
OOIOO,
The Seeds,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Tomorrow,
Nick Fraelich,
Sex Pistols,
Wolf Eyes,
The Skatalites,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Qualms,
The Fall,
Lalann,
Q65,
Black Bananas,
Pantytec,
Animal Collective,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.