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 Somalia and from Lille.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 L. Decosne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Nik Kershaw,
FM Einheit,
Qualms,
Livin' Joy,
The Fortunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen,
John Holt,
Alice Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
Brand Nubian,
D'Angelo,
Aswad,
Grey Daturas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blake Baxter,
Byron Stingily,
CMW,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Danielle Patucci,
Roxy Music,
Jacob Miller,
Faust,
Alison Limerick,
Spandau Ballet,
The Martian,
Joe Finger,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pagans,
Parry Music,
Archie Shepp,
The Fire Engines,
Yazoo,
Michelle Simonal,
The J.B.'s,
PIL,
Absolute Body Control,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
Animal Collective,
Robert Görl,
Symarip,
Barrington Levy,
JFA,
Josef K,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fuzztones,
Altered Images,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joensuu 1685,
The Litter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cure,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slave,
T. Rex,
The Selecter,
Cluster,
a-ha,
Wire,
Gichy Dan,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.