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 Korea South and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Excepter 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Angels of Light,
Black Pus,
L. Decosne,
Deakin,
X-Ray Spex,
Piero Umiliani,
The Birthday Party,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bob Dylan,
John Holt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spoonie Gee,
Max Romeo,
Deadbeat,
The Doors,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Oblivians,
Excepter,
Tim Buckley,
Pierre Henry,
The Fugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bootsy Collins,
Massinfluence,
Blake Baxter,
Deepchord,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Modern Lovers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Y Pants,
R.M.O.,
Funkadelic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mojo Men,
Todd Rundgren,
Radio Birdman,
Hardrive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Carl Craig,
Scrapy,
Joy Division,
The Gories,
Harry Pussy,
Newcleus,
Peter and Kerry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Banda Bassotti,
David Axelrod,
Lalann,
Cybotron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scan 7,
Traffic Nightmare,
JFA,
Section 25,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.