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 Philippines and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Angels of Light to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
La Düsseldorf,
Silicon Teens,
The American Breed,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
F. McDonald,
Main Source,
Sexual Harrassment,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roy Ayers,
Con Funk Shun,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Seeds,
Harmonia,
The Invisible,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rod Modell,
Scratch Acid,
Stockholm Monsters,
Todd Rundgren,
Absolute Body Control,
Barbara Tucker,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
DNA,
Sister Nancy,
The Moody Blues,
The Real Kids,
Sound Behaviour,
Iggy Pop,
MC5,
Royal Trux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Circle Jerks,
Boz Scaggs,
Flipper,
The Red Krayola,
Wally Richardson,
Country Teasers,
The Blackbyrds,
Anthony Braxton,
The J.B.'s,
Ornette Coleman,
Tears for Fears,
Brass Construction,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Tremeloes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Freddie Wadling,
Severed Heads,
Franke,
Moss Icon,
Lyres,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Adolescents,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-101,
Scrapy,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.