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 Paraguay and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Q65 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Erasure,
Visage,
Subhumans,
The Doors,
The Tremeloes,
Television Personalities,
Eurythmics,
Smog,
Cybotron,
Brick,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Sherman,
Lakeside,
Swans,
The Stooges,
Oneida,
Sight & Sound,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Byrd,
the Sonics,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fortunes,
The Moody Blues,
The J.B.'s,
Funkadelic,
The Raincoats,
Lebanon Hanover,
Adolescents,
The Kinks,
Chrome,
Easy Going,
Monolake,
Magazine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Associates,
The Blues Magoos,
F. McDonald,
Roxy Music,
Suicide,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-Ray Spex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Faust,
The Gladiators,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brass Construction,
Mandrill,
Susan Cadogan,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mr. Review,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.