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 Panama and from Accra.
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 Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grunge 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
The Leaves,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mad Mike,
Soul II Soul,
Kas Product,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
Byron Stingily,
Anthony Braxton,
The Black Dice,
a-ha,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mummies,
Silicon Teens,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Symarip,
the Slits,
the Swans,
Pylon,
Los Fastidios,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Flag,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
ABC,
The Seeds,
10cc,
DJ Sneak,
Nirvana,
OOIOO,
Gong,
Spoonie Gee,
Circle Jerks,
Max Romeo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
48th St. Collective,
Icehouse,
Slave,
The Associates,
Amon Düül,
Black Moon,
Television,
Second Layer,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wasted Youth,
Unwound,
Iggy Pop,
Matthew Halsall,
The Moleskins,
Mandrill,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Modern Lovers,
One Last Wish,
Juan Atkins,
T.S.O.L.,
Matthew Bourne,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.