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 Albania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 Johnny Osbourne to the rock 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
the Association,
The Monks,
Ituana,
PIL,
Index,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Names,
Q65,
The Detroit Cobras,
Moebius,
June Days,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Livin' Joy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Symarip,
Anthony Braxton,
These Immortal Souls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Searchers,
Bush Tetras,
The Cowsills,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Standells,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dead C,
Sight & Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Pole,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eli Mardock,
Pierre Henry,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Darondo,
Black Bananas,
Pussy Galore,
The Grass Roots,
Sandy B,
DJ Style,
John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Misunderstood,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sixth Finger,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Vogues,
New York Dolls,
Marmalade,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-Ray Spex,
Easy Going,
Average White Band,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.