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 Taiwan and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Derrick May to the jazz 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Kas Product,
Spandau Ballet,
Make Up,
Con Funk Shun,
Dead Boys,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Al Stewart,
Bill Wells,
T. Rex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Liliput,
Smog,
Andrew Hill,
Agitation Free,
Buzzcocks,
Adolescents,
Kenny Larkin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
The Monochrome Set,
David Axelrod,
Section 25,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crime,
Erasure,
Blossom Toes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
In Retrospect,
Oneida,
Scientists,
Yusef Lateef,
Brothers Johnson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smoke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Techniques,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Searchers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythm & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Kayak,
E-Dancer,
Barrington Levy,
The American Breed,
Ice-T,
Metal Thangz,
Todd Rundgren,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
L. Decosne,
Black Sheep,
Funkadelic,
The Misunderstood,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful 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.