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 Malawi and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Star Department to the rock 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
The Velvet Underground,
Amon Düül,
The Doors,
Chris & Cosey,
Deadbeat,
Aural Exciters,
Jawbox,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
The Trojans,
U.S. Maple,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Albert Ayler,
The Five Americans,
Brand Nubian,
Severed Heads,
Pharoah Sanders,
Intrusion,
Fat Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Interpol,
CMW,
R.M.O.,
Bronski Beat,
Bill Near,
Adolescents,
DJ Sneak,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
ABBA,
Oblivians,
Malaria!,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
Skarface,
Nils Olav,
K-Klass,
Roger Hodgson,
Porter Ricks,
Kas Product,
Arthur Verocai,
X-Ray Spex,
The Beau Brummels,
The Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mr. Review,
Deakin,
Reagan Youth,
Sällskapet,
Aswad,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Newcleus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Holt,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.