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 Mumbai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Aswad to the grunge 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Tom Boy,
Ronan,
Sugar Minott,
The Toasters,
Piero Umiliani,
Iggy Pop,
Main Source,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter & Gordon,
L. Decosne,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Kinks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Laurel Aitken,
EPMD,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arcadia,
Au Pairs,
Supertramp,
Little Man,
The Walker Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Roxy Music,
Delta 5,
Inner City,
Procol Harum,
Alice Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Starr,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
The Trojans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rod Modell,
Shuggie Otis,
Saccharine Trust,
Scientists,
Average White Band,
Trumans Water,
Infiniti,
Livin' Joy,
World's Most,
Flash Fearless,
Ponytail,
H. Thieme,
Quadrant,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ornette Coleman,
Nico,
Desert Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Seeds,
Glenn Branca,
John Cale,
Pussy Galore,
Nils Olav,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.