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 Malawi and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Harry Pussy,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed,
Quadrant,
Urselle,
Little Man,
Andrew Hill,
Gichy Dan,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare,
Moby Grape,
Tubeway Army,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Starr,
The New Christs,
Pussy Galore,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stockholm Monsters,
Junior Murvin,
Pulsallama,
Brick,
Barry Ungar,
Ultra Naté,
Magazine,
Surgeon,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
The Divine Comedy,
Arcadia,
James White and The Blacks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
This Heat,
Delta 5,
Wings,
Buzzcocks,
Darondo,
Sonic Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yazoo,
Newcleus,
Whodini,
Joe Finger,
Lightning Bolt,
Duran Duran,
John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Negative Approach,
Kerri Chandler,
New York Dolls,
Rufus Thomas,
Stereo Dub,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Tremeloes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Knickerbockers,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.