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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rapeman,
Angry Samoans,
Fugazi,
Lindisfarne,
Pantytec,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gichy Dan,
DJ Sneak,
The Barracudas,
U.S. Maple,
Donald Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maurizio,
The Remains,
Depeche Mode,
Echospace,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Near,
Derrick May,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Althea and Donna,
Rosa Yemen,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
The Moleskins,
Magma,
Hasil Adkins,
Tim Buckley,
Dave Gahan,
Clear Light,
Interpol,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
Mr. Review,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sonics,
Intrusion,
The Standells,
The J.B.'s,
the Soft Cell,
Fad Gadget,
Sun City Girls,
Joe Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül II,
Nils Olav,
Letta Mbulu,
Mars,
The American Breed,
Spoonie Gee,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
Deadbeat,
The Trojans,
Little Man,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.