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 Mauritius and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe 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 Terry Callier to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Evens,
New York Dolls,
Howard Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Music Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faraquet,
KRS-One,
Unwound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
Drexciya,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tubeway Army,
Neu!,
Reagan Youth,
Niagra,
Dark Day,
The Young Rascals,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gladiators,
Morten Harket,
Hashim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gories,
Kayak,
Zapp,
Icehouse,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Janne Schatter,
Ronan,
Marine Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
Crash Course in Science,
Carl Craig,
Au Pairs,
Eve St. Jones,
Swell Maps,
Warren Ellis,
Theoretical Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mr. Review,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dave Clark Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Derrick Morgan,
Scan 7,
Minor Threat,
Circle Jerks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Schoolly D,
Yazoo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.