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 Congo and from Edmonton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Vogues to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minor Threat,
The Associates,
Barclay James Harvest,
Royal Trux,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blossom Toes,
Peter & Gordon,
Brand Nubian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Misunderstood,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Moon,
Circle Jerks,
The Toasters,
MDC,
Bill Near,
Kaleidoscope,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arcadia,
Absolute Body Control,
Organ,
Unrelated Segments,
Ludus,
The Invisible,
Sixth Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
La Düsseldorf,
Cheater Slicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
Blancmange,
The Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mandrill,
Pole,
Ultimate Spinach,
The J.B.'s,
Eli Mardock,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
Al Stewart,
The Happenings,
Quadrant,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Human League,
The Slits,
Eurythmics,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jawbox,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.