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 Vietnam and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Moby Grape to the rock 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Magazine,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Popol Vuh,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sunsets and Hearts,
James White and The Blacks,
X-101,
Mission of Burma,
Swans,
The Evens,
MC5,
Hashim,
Mars,
Bill Wells,
Soft Cell,
Henry Cow,
Ituana,
Judy Mowatt,
Joyce Sims,
Pantaleimon,
The Gun Club,
Slave,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Order,
Nas,
Tres Demented,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boredoms,
Guru Guru,
Godley & Creme,
The Happenings,
Byron Stingily,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Saints,
Donald Byrd,
X-102,
The American Breed,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Starr,
Donny Hathaway,
Skarface,
Dave Gahan,
Dawn Penn,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
Excepter,
Moebius,
Nick Fraelich,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Flag,
Oblivians,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Soft Cell,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cymande,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Stooges,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.