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 Bahrain and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Blancmange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aural Exciters,
The Fall,
Thompson Twins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Green,
In Retrospect,
The Barracudas,
Parry Music,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Y Pants,
Eve St. Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Iggy Pop,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Lynne,
Maurizio,
Royal Trux,
Wire,
Pylon,
Technova,
Crime,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New Order,
DJ Style,
Lower 48,
June Days,
Zapp,
Moss Icon,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gong,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Icehouse,
Lyres,
Roy Ayers,
Nik Kershaw,
Absolute Body Control,
Minny Pops,
Niagra,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris Corsano,
Todd Terry,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hardrive,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cure,
Trumans Water,
Make Up,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
Dark Day,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.