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 Djibouti and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fear to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock 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?
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
Mo-Dettes,
Los Fastidios,
Lungfish,
Au Pairs,
Little Man,
the Slits,
Tomorrow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Charles Mingus,
Crooked Eye,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sight & Sound,
Basic Channel,
Babytalk,
The Fire Engines,
Marvin Gaye,
Technova,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Darondo,
Boredoms,
Lindisfarne,
David McCallum,
Soul II Soul,
Bootsy Collins,
The Seeds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Residents,
Rod Modell,
Unrelated Segments,
CMW,
Magazine,
Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bad Manners,
The Invisible,
Terry Callier,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Stooges,
Blancmange,
Popol Vuh,
Godley & Creme,
PIL,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronan,
The Searchers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fear,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Massinfluence,
Bauhaus,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Sneak,
John Coltrane,
Joensuu 1685,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.