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 Spain and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Whodini,
Absolute Body Control,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bill Wells,
The New Christs,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra,
Althea and Donna,
Rosa Yemen,
Joe Smooth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Görl,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Last Poets,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Icehouse,
The Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Liliput,
Aswad,
CMW,
The Shadows of Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Brand Nubian,
The Beau Brummels,
Banda Bassotti,
The Mummies,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tears for Fears,
a-ha,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dave Gahan,
Unwound,
Nik Kershaw,
Grauzone,
the Slits,
Yellowson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cymande,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Womack,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crime,
Rekid,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Birthday Party,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reagan Youth,
Minny Pops,
Slick Rick,
H. Thieme,
Dead Boys,
The Offenders,
A Certain Ratio,
Kayak,
Schoolly D,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.