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 Yemen and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
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 mellotron 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 Crispian St. Peters 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lindisfarne,
Second Layer,
Lightning Bolt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter & Gordon,
Lucky Dragons,
Deepchord,
The Residents,
Lou Christie,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Faust,
Dawn Penn,
Pagans,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Misunderstood,
Ponytail,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang of Four,
the Soft Cell,
Hashim,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Pop Group,
Talk Talk,
June of 44,
Monolake,
Youth Brigade,
Crash Course in Science,
Nas,
Jawbox,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Average White Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Human League,
Bronski Beat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Masters at Work,
Kerri Chandler,
a-ha,
Sex Pistols,
Malaria!,
Japan,
Fugazi,
The Dirtbombs,
Kayak,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
The Music Machine,
Marmalade,
The American Breed,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soft Machine,
The Saints,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.