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 Kenya and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Index to the punk 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Toasters,
Cheater Slicks,
Flipper,
Second Layer,
The Monks,
Thompson Twins,
The Pretty Things,
Pole,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
Mr. Review,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Porter Ricks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sandy B,
Harry Pussy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mad Mike,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers,
The Selecter,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
the Swans,
Josef K,
Alice Coltrane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gories,
Eurythmics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sällskapet,
Peter and Kerry,
Fela Kuti,
Bob Dylan,
Eden Ahbez,
Circle Jerks,
Tubeway Army,
Alton Ellis,
Lalann,
Grey Daturas,
Chrome,
Neil Young,
The Seeds,
Deadbeat,
The Cure,
The Gap Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Steve Hackett,
Deepchord,
The Stooges,
Tears for Fears,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Wyatt,
The Residents,
X-102,
Severed Heads,
Cluster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.