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 Moldova and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arab on Radar to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
AZ,
Todd Terry,
Buzzcocks,
Qualms,
the Germs,
The Mummies,
The Smoke,
T. Rex,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liliput,
The Count Five,
Television Personalities,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Spoonie Gee,
The Grass Roots,
Easy Going,
Dark Day,
Isaac Hayes,
Camouflage,
Tubeway Army,
Panda Bear,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine,
Technova,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grey Daturas,
Groovy Waters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bauhaus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Susan Cadogan,
Oblivians,
Sugar Minott,
Brothers Johnson,
Surgeon,
Kenny Larkin,
Bang On A Can,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fortunes,
Kayak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Young Rascals,
Pierre Henry,
The Slackers,
Ornette Coleman,
Barbara Tucker,
Skarface,
Mark Hollis,
The Durutti Column,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Leonard Cohen,
Arcadia,
In Retrospect,
Crispy Ambulance,
Saccharine Trust,
Prince Buster,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.