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 Romania and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Harmonia to the techno 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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Scan 7,
Ultra Naté,
Pole,
Ohio Players,
Black Pus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pagans,
Qualms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Masters at Work,
Das Ding,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Wells,
Sarah Menescal,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Faraquet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Infiniti,
Chris Corsano,
Joe Finger,
Youth Brigade,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne,
Scientists,
Patti Smith,
Oneida,
Thompson Twins,
The Fortunes,
EPMD,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moleskins,
H. Thieme,
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
Oblivians,
The Golliwogs,
Alice Coltrane,
The Busters,
Reuben Wilson,
A Certain Ratio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tubeway Army,
The Victims,
Zapp,
Godley & Creme,
Ludus,
Nico,
Eric Copeland,
The Star Department,
Babytalk,
Rotary Connection,
Archie Shepp,
the Swans,
The Sonics,
Sällskapet,
Man Parrish,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.