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 Senegal and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Metal Thangz to the jazz 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The Fall,
The Black Dice,
Joe Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Whodini,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Ken Boothe,
The Velvet Underground,
Patti Smith,
Henry Cow,
Q65,
June of 44,
Ohio Players,
Nico,
Grauzone,
The Trojans,
Stereo Dub,
Eddi Front,
Television Personalities,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camberwell Now,
Von Mondo,
CMW,
Rekid,
Roxy Music,
Severed Heads,
Fat Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Robert Hood,
Smog,
Delon & Dalcan,
DJ Style,
Bill Near,
Guru Guru,
Sparks,
Arcadia,
Flash Fearless,
Radio Birdman,
Darondo,
Idris Muhammad,
Godley & Creme,
Joyce Sims,
Archie Shepp,
Q and Not U,
The Stooges,
the Association,
Pagans,
Donny Hathaway,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DNA,
Pierre Henry,
Hashim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
L. Decosne,
Black Bananas,
Delta 5,
Groovy Waters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.