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 Saudi Arabia and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Gories to the techno 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Christie,
Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
Chris & Cosey,
Country Teasers,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
The Moleskins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
MC5,
The Grass Roots,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Invisible,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
John Lydon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brick,
Charles Mingus,
Lalann,
Niagra,
Minor Threat,
Pierre Henry,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
Barbara Tucker,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
Duran Duran,
the Human League,
Carl Craig,
The New Christs,
Todd Rundgren,
Heaven 17,
The Martian,
Matthew Bourne,
Donny Hathaway,
June Days,
Swans,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minny Pops,
La Düsseldorf,
Fat Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Henry Cow,
Gang Green,
Hashim,
Idris Muhammad,
Fela Kuti,
The Dave Clark Five,
Basic Channel,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.