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 Sierra Leone and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Pagans to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Scion,
Masters at Work,
The Grass Roots,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Germs,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Leaves,
Bootsy Collins,
Wally Richardson,
Sonic Youth,
E-Dancer,
Slave,
H. Thieme,
Archie Shepp,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Freddie Wadling,
Max Romeo,
Dark Day,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Litter,
Wire,
The Happenings,
Angry Samoans,
Roxy Music,
Funky Four + One,
Adolescents,
Sister Nancy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harry Pussy,
Organ,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Slackers,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Pulsallama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brand Nubian,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Smooth,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
Livin' Joy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Blossom Toes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Amon Düül II,
Con Funk Shun,
Procol Harum,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Skatalites,
Kayak,
Robert Hood,
Intrusion,
Make Up,
Television,
Fela Kuti,
Au Pairs,
EPMD,
MC5,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.