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 Cameroon and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fortunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Gories,
The Sonics,
cv313,
The Techniques,
Blossom Toes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Slits,
Gang Starr,
June of 44,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Guru Guru,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
The Velvet Underground,
the Normal,
Black Sheep,
Ponytail,
CMW,
The Sound,
Whodini,
Parry Music,
Shuggie Otis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Procol Harum,
Pagans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Echospace,
Severed Heads,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Görl,
Graham Central Station,
Pole,
Animal Collective,
L. Decosne,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tim Buckley,
Eddi Front,
Wolf Eyes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Christie,
Neil Young,
Skriet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Albert Ayler,
Cluster,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
John Cale,
Lightning Bolt,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Angels of Light,
Fad Gadget,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.