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 Grenada and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Gang of Four to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Black Dice,
Wally Richardson,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Mills,
The Toasters,
Nirvana,
The Index,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Steve Hackett,
Suburban Knight,
Aswad,
Hasil Adkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultravox,
Godley & Creme,
The Fire Engines,
Parry Music,
The Seeds,
The Young Rascals,
Bronski Beat,
Vainqueur,
Grauzone,
Jandek,
Don Cherry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ossler,
Depeche Mode,
Roy Ayers,
Scan 7,
Lalann,
Lindisfarne,
The Monks,
Deakin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dawn Penn,
The Cramps,
Cal Tjader,
Aloha Tigers,
Hot Snakes,
The Stooges,
Rites of Spring,
Joe Smooth,
Dual Sessions,
Lucky Dragons,
Sparks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.