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 El Salvador and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 48th St. Collective to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Malaria!,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Index,
Minutemen,
The Beau Brummels,
Radiohead,
Deakin,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Pretty Things,
Guru Guru,
Chris & Cosey,
Masters at Work,
Skarface,
The Star Department,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bob Dylan,
In Retrospect,
Wolf Eyes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cameo,
Isaac Hayes,
Essential Logic,
Eddi Front,
John Holt,
Nirvana,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lakeside,
Whodini,
Joey Negro,
Cybotron,
Stetsasonic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lindisfarne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wings,
Swell Maps,
Barrington Levy,
Scratch Acid,
Dual Sessions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Public Enemy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Leonard Cohen,
The Slackers,
The Sonics,
Shuggie Otis,
OOIOO,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Victims,
Babytalk,
Ultra Naté,
Moebius,
MC5,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.