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 Bahrain and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tim Buckley to the crunk 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Rundgren,
Donny Hathaway,
The Remains,
The Moody Blues,
Ronan,
The Monks,
Royal Trux,
Thompson Twins,
Rod Modell,
Shoche,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
AZ,
Matthew Halsall,
The Red Krayola,
Japan,
X-101,
Stereo Dub,
The New Christs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kas Product,
John Holt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Audionom,
The Martian,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
Pantaleimon,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
Kurtis Blow,
Hoover,
Newcleus,
T. Rex,
The Sound,
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
R.M.O.,
Boogie Down Productions,
La Düsseldorf,
Accadde A,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monks,
Morten Harket,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Al Stewart,
Sun City Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Bluetip,
The Velvet Underground,
Yaz,
Depeche Mode,
Sexual Harrassment,
Saccharine Trust,
48th St. Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grauzone,
The Fuzztones,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.