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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Essential Logic to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pylon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Siglo XX,
Buzzcocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Seeds,
MC5,
The Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Cluster,
Isaac Hayes,
Rosa Yemen,
Heaven 17,
Henry Cow,
Amazonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Moleskins,
Fela Kuti,
Mandrill,
Maurizio,
June Days,
The Divine Comedy,
The Martian,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ice-T,
Interpol,
Rhythm & Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ronan,
David Bowie,
Sex Pistols,
Sun City Girls,
U.S. Maple,
LL Cool J,
Bootsy Collins,
Terry Callier,
The Angels of Light,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Von Mondo,
Vainqueur,
Goldenarms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül II,
Wally Richardson,
The Vogues,
Slave,
The Star Department,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Adolescents,
Cal Tjader,
Scion,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.