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 East Timor and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marmalade to the grime 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alphaville,
Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Skatalites,
Josef K,
Ultimate Spinach,
Popol Vuh,
Eurythmics,
The Motions,
Derrick May,
Todd Rundgren,
Graham Central Station,
Symarip,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Whodini,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
Duran Duran,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Al Stewart,
Sixth Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Flamin' Groovies,
B.T. Express,
Sex Pistols,
the Germs,
The Pretty Things,
Nico,
Hasil Adkins,
Thompson Twins,
Grey Daturas,
Eddi Front,
Kayak,
The Knickerbockers,
The Modern Lovers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
Fela Kuti,
Monks,
Magazine,
Sun City Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Soft Cell,
Stetsasonic,
Pole,
Eden Ahbez,
ABBA,
The Leaves,
The Names,
Tres Demented,
PIL,
Sister Nancy,
The Human League,
Wally Richardson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Metal Thangz,
Liliput,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.