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 Botswana and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 World's Most to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Sixth Finger,
The Barracudas,
Television Personalities,
The Stooges,
Camberwell Now,
Sarah Menescal,
John Coltrane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ken Boothe,
Warren Ellis,
Essential Logic,
Joey Negro,
The Offenders,
Eurythmics,
Altered Images,
Rod Modell,
CMW,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Bowie,
The Black Dice,
Soul II Soul,
Scion,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül,
Roxette,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantytec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monks,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
Ituana,
The Leaves,
Das Ding,
The Pretty Things,
Wasted Youth,
Audionom,
Cheater Slicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang Starr,
ABBA,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
Judy Mowatt,
Rapeman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Japan,
Pierre Henry,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terry Callier,
Shuggie Otis,
Rotary Connection,
Hoover,
Amon Düül II,
Crispian St. Peters,
Magazine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.