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 Lille.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 The Remains to the punk 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Anthony Braxton,
Theoretical Girls,
Outsiders,
Moss Icon,
Robert Görl,
The Neon Judgement,
Lakeside,
Prince Buster,
ABBA,
The Selecter,
Nick Fraelich,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rekid,
The Real Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Kayak,
Bobby Womack,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
Kerrie Biddell,
One Last Wish,
Intrusion,
Jeff Lynne,
Alton Ellis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Toni Rubio,
Porter Ricks,
Fluxion,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
Danielle Patucci,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Suicide,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hashim,
Magma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-Ray Spex,
Mandrill,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultra Naté,
Skaos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fad Gadget,
Wings,
Sixth Finger,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
Young Marble Giants,
Nirvana,
Dave Gahan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Pretty Things,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sonics,
Loose Ends,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark 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.