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 Romania and from London.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roy Ayers to the punk 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Marine Girls,
Public Enemy,
Groovy Waters,
Liliput,
Main Source,
Ludus,
The Last Poets,
Flamin' Groovies,
MC5,
John Lydon,
Davy DMX,
Camouflage,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
EPMD,
Deakin,
Ultravox,
The Count Five,
Gang Green,
Index,
China Crisis,
John Foxx,
Blake Baxter,
Pylon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sparks,
Television,
Kaleidoscope,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dead C,
Erasure,
Magma,
Charles Mingus,
The Smoke,
Sister Nancy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
OOIOO,
The Doors,
Gang of Four,
Agitation Free,
June of 44,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Black Dice,
Siglo XX,
AZ,
The Monochrome Set,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultra Naté,
48th St. Collective,
Warren Ellis,
Dawn Penn,
Godley & Creme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wire,
The Gories,
Mandrill,
Alphaville,
The Litter,
Peter & Gordon,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.