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 the UAE and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron 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 The Vogues to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
The Misunderstood,
The Index,
Judy Mowatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Colin Newman,
Barry Ungar,
Metal Thangz,
Sex Pistols,
The Five Americans,
Monolake,
The Associates,
Pylon,
Yazoo,
David Bowie,
Skriet,
Lyres,
Gang Starr,
The Modern Lovers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Cale,
Josef K,
Sonic Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deepchord,
Connie Case,
Eric Copeland,
Model 500,
Dead Boys,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Quantec,
the Slits,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fela Kuti,
The Knickerbockers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Order,
Kayak,
Eddi Front,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Terry Callier,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Wire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Stooges,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
The Fortunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Warren Ellis,
Chris Corsano,
Symarip,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.