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 Sweden and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tommy Roe to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Heaven 17,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Style,
Anthony Braxton,
Model 500,
Sandy B,
Deakin,
Sight & Sound,
The Litter,
Carl Craig,
Sex Pistols,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Buckinghams,
KRS-One,
Donald Byrd,
Ultravox,
Rites of Spring,
the Sonics,
Scientists,
Mo-Dettes,
LL Cool J,
Throbbing Gristle,
kango's stein massive,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Porter Ricks,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Sherman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Skatalites,
Max Romeo,
Soul II Soul,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flash Fearless,
Nirvana,
Marine Girls,
Joey Negro,
Hardrive,
Index,
Rotary Connection,
Visage,
Easy Going,
Boredoms,
Robert Hood,
Hasil Adkins,
X-102,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tim Buckley,
Erykah Badu,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Moon,
Depeche Mode,
Dark Day,
Amon Düül II,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.