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 Colombia 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the rock 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Steve Hackett,
B.T. Express,
Average White Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fluxion,
The Blackbyrds,
Roxette,
Minnie Riperton,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
Leonard Cohen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boredoms,
John Cale,
The Kinks,
The Divine Comedy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
CMW,
UT,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
The Knickerbockers,
Nas,
Harry Pussy,
The Fugs,
Yazoo,
Erasure,
The Dead C,
Animal Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Enemy,
Isaac Hayes,
Desert Stars,
Oneida,
Porter Ricks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shuggie Otis,
Delta 5,
The Cramps,
Make Up,
Tres Demented,
Grey Daturas,
The Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
A Certain Ratio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hashim,
Sonic Youth,
Colin Newman,
The Techniques,
Althea and Donna,
Saccharine Trust,
Susan Cadogan,
Visage,
Faraquet,
The Angels of Light,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.