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 Ireland and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar 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 Public Image Ltd. 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Carl Craig,
Dennis Brown,
Basic Channel,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Sam Rivers,
E-Dancer,
Bill Near,
Quadrant,
Yazoo,
Cal Tjader,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
48th St. Collective,
Alphaville,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deakin,
Iggy Pop,
Shuggie Otis,
The Music Machine,
John Coltrane,
Outsiders,
Smog,
Nils Olav,
Livin' Joy,
Wasted Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Brothers Johnson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wally Richardson,
Monolake,
Spoonie Gee,
Icehouse,
Bootsy Collins,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Starr,
Gang Gang Dance,
This Heat,
Fifty Foot Hose,
June of 44,
Los Fastidios,
Skarface,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric Copeland,
Sister Nancy,
Howard Jones,
Harry Pussy,
The Gun Club,
PIL,
Bill Wells,
Tomorrow,
Rapeman,
The Beau Brummels,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Human League,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ronnie Foster,
Neil Young,
Desert Stars,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.