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 Luxembourg and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ralphi Rosario to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Crime,
The Human League,
The Busters,
Clear Light,
Danielle Patucci,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music,
Eurythmics,
Piero Umiliani,
These Immortal Souls,
Maurizio,
The Cowsills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare,
The Gladiators,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sam Rivers,
Brick,
Fear,
Lightning Bolt,
Ronnie Foster,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
June Days,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Von Mondo,
Kerri Chandler,
Underground Resistance,
Kayak,
Lou Christie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Symarip,
The Invisible,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Buzzcocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABC,
Crooked Eye,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radio Birdman,
Television Personalities,
Average White Band,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
Masters at Work,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Bowie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Severed Heads,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Motions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.