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 Morocco and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tropical Tobacco to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Slave,
Fela Kuti,
Lucky Dragons,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reagan Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hardrive,
Eric Copeland,
Glenn Branca,
Deadbeat,
The Seeds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mr. Review,
Smog,
B.T. Express,
Harmonia,
Fear,
The Evens,
Yaz,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
Eddi Front,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Tim Buckley,
Talk Talk,
X-101,
Section 25,
The Skatalites,
Mantronix,
Procol Harum,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Last Poets,
Yusef Lateef,
Freddie Wadling,
John Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sight & Sound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Duran Duran,
Fugazi,
Alison Limerick,
The Red Krayola,
Panda Bear,
Suburban Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ohio Players,
Derrick May,
Bang On A Can,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
a-ha,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.