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 Gambia and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Skaos to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
In Retrospect,
The Walker Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Second Layer,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultravox,
Joyce Sims,
The Leaves,
The Tremeloes,
The Zeros,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Agitation Free,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Organ,
Rosa Yemen,
Funkadelic,
Al Stewart,
The Busters,
David McCallum,
John Foxx,
Deadbeat,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
Cymande,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Darondo,
Bobby Womack,
Bang On A Can,
The Moleskins,
Ten City,
Television Personalities,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
Quantec,
The Flesh Eaters,
David Axelrod,
Suicide,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Velvet Underground,
Can,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eve St. Jones,
Skarface,
Traffic Nightmare,
June Days,
Mary Jane Girls,
Maurizio,
Steve Hackett,
Cluster,
Blancmange,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.