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 Angola and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Organ to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
The Star Department,
June of 44,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Human League,
Khruangbin,
Cybotron,
John Cale,
L. Decosne,
Nirvana,
Piero Umiliani,
The Misunderstood,
Clear Light,
The Count Five,
Bobby Womack,
Eric Copeland,
Connie Case,
Blossom Toes,
Delta 5,
Danielle Patucci,
MDC,
Wasted Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T. Rex,
The Five Americans,
Black Pus,
Laurel Aitken,
Pole,
Quadrant,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
David Bowie,
Groovy Waters,
Kurtis Blow,
Terry Callier,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Starr,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sarah Menescal,
Ludus,
Minutemen,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
These Immortal Souls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Bizarre Inc.,
Archie Shepp,
Zero Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Trumans Water,
Bob Dylan,
The Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.