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 Bahrain and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Lindisfarne to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Moss Icon,
Ronnie Foster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aswad,
Eurythmics,
John Lydon,
Intrusion,
Parry Music,
Unwound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Janne Schatter,
La Düsseldorf,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boz Scaggs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Teasers,
Amon Düül II,
Moby Grape,
Matthew Bourne,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Grass Roots,
Aural Exciters,
Eddi Front,
MC5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Buckinghams,
Mandrill,
Joy Division,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Stooges,
Negative Approach,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
Agent Orange,
Anakelly,
R.M.O.,
Marmalade,
The Litter,
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
Eve St. Jones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Magazine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oblivians,
The Evens,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Offenders,
Sandy B,
Q65,
The Count Five,
Robert Hood,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.