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 Taipei.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 China Crisis 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt 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?
Oblivians,
Royal Trux,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Christie,
The Saints,
Pylon,
Amon Düül II,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mad Mike,
Smog,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cure,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Grass Roots,
The Human League,
Ronan,
Depeche Mode,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-Ray Spex,
Qualms,
Dark Day,
Ludus,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Hood,
Audionom,
Basic Channel,
James White and The Blacks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mark Hollis,
New Age Steppers,
Glenn Branca,
Niagra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Nirvana,
La Düsseldorf,
Archie Shepp,
The Barracudas,
Boredoms,
Faust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
The Blues Magoos,
Moebius,
Magazine,
Barry Ungar,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Angels of Light,
Y Pants,
Black Sheep,
Bronski Beat,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
Prince Buster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reagan Youth,
Motorama,
Sparks,
Porter Ricks,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.