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 Bolivia and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stetsasonic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Moleskins,
Mr. Review,
Steve Hackett,
The Young Rascals,
Warsaw,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Althea and Donna,
New Age Steppers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nick Fraelich,
Donald Byrd,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül II,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slackers,
Joyce Sims,
The Wake,
Rapeman,
Tommy Roe,
Maurizio,
Radiohead,
Television Personalities,
Connie Case,
World's Most,
The Skatalites,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed,
Charles Mingus,
Brass Construction,
Q65,
Los Fastidios,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Flag,
Sonic Youth,
The Selecter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reuben Wilson,
Blancmange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aswad,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Foxx,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stetsasonic,
Guru Guru,
Circle Jerks,
Aaron Thompson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faust,
Das Ding,
Ludus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Inner City,
Unrelated Segments,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.