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 Kyrgyzstan and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Glambeats Corp. to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Ronnie Foster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
World's Most,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lungfish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
Sex Pistols,
CMW,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Green,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arcadia,
Can,
Ten City,
Dennis Brown,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra,
Rites of Spring,
Nils Olav,
Andrew Hill,
Hashim,
Crime,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Bar-Kays,
Oblivians,
Lyres,
Black Sheep,
Barry Ungar,
Zero Boys,
T. Rex,
Joyce Sims,
Flipper,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Velvet Underground,
Cal Tjader,
Neu!,
Avey Tare,
Easy Going,
The Searchers,
Y Pants,
The Gun Club,
Warren Ellis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crash Course in Science,
The Move,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.