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 Croatia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Wake to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Donald Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare,
Susan Cadogan,
Quantec,
The Blues Magoos,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ponytail,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Visage,
Deadbeat,
Mantronix,
Jeff Lynne,
Deepchord,
X-Ray Spex,
The Sound,
Qualms,
Cluster,
Spandau Ballet,
Sonic Youth,
The Pretty Things,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The New Christs,
Harmonia,
The Stooges,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Vainqueur,
MDC,
The Index,
Jacob Miller,
Pere Ubu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hoover,
New York Dolls,
Franke,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Khruangbin,
Eric Dolphy,
Todd Terry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Skatalites,
Organ,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
OOIOO,
Desert Stars,
X-101,
Harry Pussy,
Porter Ricks,
The Monochrome Set,
Sexual Harrassment,
Q and Not U,
Wasted Youth,
Slave,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.