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 Uruguay and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brothers Johnson to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Nils Olav,
The Real Kids,
The Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
Sound Behaviour,
Scrapy,
Neil Young,
Deakin,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
Scan 7,
JFA,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Görl,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
Vainqueur,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mark Hollis,
Banda Bassotti,
X-Ray Spex,
Subhumans,
Whodini,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skarface,
The Shadows of Knight,
Graham Central Station,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Isaac Hayes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Clear Light,
Rakim,
Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mandrill,
Bang On A Can,
Pylon,
Make Up,
Dave Gahan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Urselle,
DNA,
Das Ding,
Marvin Gaye,
Quantec,
48th St. Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Monolake,
The Offenders,
The Fuzztones,
Aural Exciters,
Anakelly,
Rod Modell,
The Durutti Column,
Crooked Eye,
Maurizio,
T. Rex,
Cal Tjader,
Radiopuhelimet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.