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 Gambia and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Desert Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
David Axelrod,
Trumans Water,
The United States of America,
Harmonia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Subhumans,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter & Gordon,
Basic Channel,
The Sound,
Hardrive,
EPMD,
Marcia Griffiths,
Unwound,
The Human League,
Brick,
Black Pus,
Stetsasonic,
John Lydon,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
The Gun Club,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gories,
Masters at Work,
Soft Machine,
Ponytail,
E-Dancer,
James White and The Blacks,
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Depeche Mode,
Moebius,
Black Flag,
The New Christs,
New Order,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Colin Newman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Sheep,
Sonic Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Vainqueur,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Evens,
Freddie Wadling,
Yellowson,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
The Red Krayola,
Japan,
Ten City,
Gong,
The Litter,
Rekid,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Swans,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.