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 Papua New Guinea and from Cairo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 B.T. Express to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
the Bar-Kays,
Scratch Acid,
Swans,
R.M.O.,
Visage,
Ohio Players,
The Mummies,
The Sonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Laurel Aitken,
Pagans,
Public Enemy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joensuu 1685,
Kaleidoscope,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Todd Rundgren,
John Lydon,
Stereo Dub,
Qualms,
Bad Manners,
Black Moon,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
Boogie Down Productions,
The United States of America,
The Moody Blues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Neon Judgement,
The Golliwogs,
Steve Hackett,
Faraquet,
Chris Corsano,
Skriet,
Sandy B,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
Dave Gahan,
Roger Hodgson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fluxion,
Boz Scaggs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gastr Del Sol,
Matthew Halsall,
CMW,
Country Teasers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Freddie Wadling,
Panda Bear,
The Knickerbockers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ossler,
Howard Jones,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.