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 Malawi and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ 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 U.S. Maple to the techno 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 American Breed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harry Pussy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Glambeats Corp.,
Oneida,
Moby Grape,
A Certain Ratio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Urselle,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Gang Dance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anthony Braxton,
kango's stein massive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Lalann,
Royal Trux,
Cameo,
CMW,
Crooked Eye,
The Fortunes,
Sex Pistols,
Warren Ellis,
Arthur Verocai,
Television,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare,
Lyres,
Mo-Dettes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Clear Light,
Country Teasers,
The Pretty Things,
Hot Snakes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Busters,
Kayak,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül,
The Slits,
UT,
Grauzone,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ronan,
The Human League,
Schoolly D,
Dawn Penn,
Silicon Teens,
Joe Finger,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quantec,
Black Moon,
Joey Negro,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.