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 Uruguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Yazoo to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cure,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Monochrome Set,
Lyres,
Nik Kershaw,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Steve Hackett,
Chris & Cosey,
Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
The Sonics,
The Raincoats,
the Sonics,
Surgeon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fortunes,
Make Up,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Pantytec,
Nation of Ulysses,
Maurizio,
Bob Dylan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Spoonie Gee,
Agitation Free,
Eric B and Rakim,
Goldenarms,
Depeche Mode,
The Skatalites,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mantronix,
Icehouse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alison Limerick,
Agent Orange,
David McCallum,
Marmalade,
Au Pairs,
Barbara Tucker,
Half Japanese,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funkadelic,
Outsiders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fuzztones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Judy Mowatt,
Angry Samoans,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Idris Muhammad,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.