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 Qatar and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
The Index,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skriet,
Bootsy Collins,
Mars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MDC,
Ituana,
John Cale,
X-102,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
10cc,
The Fuzztones,
Moby Grape,
Eric B and Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eden Ahbez,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
KRS-One,
Chrome,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fad Gadget,
Eric Dolphy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Patti Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wings,
Al Stewart,
Animal Collective,
cv313,
Jawbox,
Scion,
Porter Ricks,
Bang On A Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barbara Tucker,
Junior Murvin,
Sight & Sound,
Lyres,
Camberwell Now,
Andrew Hill,
Leonard Cohen,
June of 44,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Circle Jerks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Beau Brummels,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Jandek,
Hoover,
The Misunderstood,
Adolescents,
Supertramp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tomorrow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Enemy,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.