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 Estonia and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Althea and Donna to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
The Fall,
Tomorrow,
China Crisis,
The Barracudas,
Little Man,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bill Near,
Underground Resistance,
Gichy Dan,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lightning Bolt,
The Litter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun City Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Nils Olav,
In Retrospect,
The Divine Comedy,
Charles Mingus,
La Düsseldorf,
Crime,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
Minor Threat,
The American Breed,
Derrick Morgan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quadrant,
Slick Rick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Procol Harum,
X-Ray Spex,
Scott Walker,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Con Funk Shun,
Eddi Front,
The Walker Brothers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marvin Gaye,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jawbox,
Severed Heads,
Swell Maps,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Sheep,
The Blackbyrds,
Icehouse,
John Holt,
Bootsy Collins,
The Toasters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.