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 Angola and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gastr Del Sol to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers 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 jazz 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Clear Light,
Tom Boy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sight & Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Crooked Eye,
Boz Scaggs,
Parry Music,
Funky Four + One,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brothers Johnson,
Hot Snakes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rod Modell,
Pole,
The Cowsills,
Altered Images,
Eric Copeland,
Don Cherry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Kinks,
Faraquet,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Foxx,
The Mummies,
The Fugs,
Thompson Twins,
Popol Vuh,
Mad Mike,
David Axelrod,
Spoonie Gee,
The Remains,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
Amon Düül,
Procol Harum,
Rites of Spring,
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Searchers,
Magma,
The Slits,
Anthony Braxton,
Joyce Sims,
Sugar Minott,
Letta Mbulu,
Los Fastidios,
Vladislav Delay,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Sherman,
Max Romeo,
The Tremeloes,
Jandek,
Hardrive,
Trumans Water,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.