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 Albania and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Camberwell Now to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Cybotron,
James White and The Blacks,
Khruangbin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Derrick May,
Connie Case,
Essential Logic,
Alton Ellis,
Shoche,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Drexciya,
Funkadelic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
New Order,
The Birthday Party,
Boz Scaggs,
World's Most,
Marc Almond,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Todd Rundgren,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wings,
Ultra Naté,
This Heat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Glenn Branca,
The Count Five,
Maleditus Sound,
DJ Style,
Livin' Joy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
Yazoo,
Bauhaus,
The Mummies,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
Pussy Galore,
Sarah Menescal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Negative Approach,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fad Gadget,
The Slackers,
Trumans Water,
Erasure,
Ten City,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moby Grape,
La Düsseldorf,
Reagan Youth,
48th St. Collective,
The Fall,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.