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 Pakistan 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sarah Menescal to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Motorama,
Morten Harket,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scott Walker,
The Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
Fatback Band,
David Axelrod,
Dave Gahan,
Moby Grape,
Mars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Green,
Swell Maps,
Hasil Adkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Grass Roots,
Das Ding,
David Bowie,
Kaleidoscope,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Funky Four + One,
The Saints,
Rekid,
Kurtis Blow,
Henry Cow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Darondo,
Deadbeat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Womack,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blossom Toes,
Arcadia,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Make Up,
Drexciya,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skriet,
X-101,
Fad Gadget,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
Pylon,
Minny Pops,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Normal,
Hardrive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter & Gordon,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang On A Can,
Parry Music,
Zapp,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.