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 Niger and from Tokyo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 X-102 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Black Pus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scan 7,
kango's stein massive,
The Residents,
Byron Stingily,
In Retrospect,
Idris Muhammad,
Smog,
Rhythm & Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flipper,
Essential Logic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eric Dolphy,
Glenn Branca,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rosa Yemen,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
Hashim,
the Human League,
Banda Bassotti,
Franke,
Nick Fraelich,
Metal Thangz,
Bronski Beat,
Aloha Tigers,
Moebius,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Human League,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Moody Blues,
Unwound,
Oneida,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gap Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare,
Easy Going,
Archie Shepp,
Massinfluence,
The Martian,
The Fugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Roger Hodgson,
Monks,
Zapp,
The Techniques,
Swell Maps,
ABC,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Halsall,
Intrusion,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.