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 Netherlands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lou Reed 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 Banda Bassotti to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
AZ,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boz Scaggs,
June of 44,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Standells,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Qualms,
K-Klass,
Ludus,
Make Up,
Stetsasonic,
UT,
Dawn Penn,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
Flipper,
The Buckinghams,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Kinks,
the Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Moon,
Blake Baxter,
Gang of Four,
R.M.O.,
Prince Buster,
Gastr Del Sol,
Charles Mingus,
F. McDonald,
Mark Hollis,
EPMD,
Crooked Eye,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smoke,
The Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
Terry Callier,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Mummies,
Mo-Dettes,
Rotary Connection,
Sun City Girls,
Intrusion,
Archie Shepp,
Dark Day,
Warren Ellis,
Nik Kershaw,
China Crisis,
Neu!,
Banda Bassotti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minutemen,
KRS-One,
The Monks,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.