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 Algeria and from Spokane.
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 Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin 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 Deepchord to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Jacques Brel,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
Infiniti,
Magma,
Newcleus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
The Selecter,
Chris Corsano,
Second Layer,
The Offenders,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
This Heat,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ronnie Foster,
Brass Construction,
Interpol,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suicide,
Pierre Henry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Christie,
Cluster,
Donny Hathaway,
Nas,
The Smoke,
Ludus,
Intrusion,
Guru Guru,
The United States of America,
Roxette,
June of 44,
Sun City Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Depeche Mode,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Trojans,
The Move,
Khruangbin,
Donald Byrd,
The Velvet Underground,
David Bowie,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alice Coltrane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fugs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brothers Johnson,
Bootsy Collins,
Urselle,
The American Breed,
Ponytail,
Grey Daturas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hot Snakes,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.