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 Chile and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe 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 The Walker Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Agitation Free,
The American Breed,
Robert Hood,
Heaven 17,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rekid,
Silicon Teens,
Blancmange,
MDC,
Q65,
These Immortal Souls,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Deepchord,
Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
Roxy Music,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare,
Cybotron,
Quantec,
The Index,
Mad Mike,
Quando Quango,
Brothers Johnson,
John Holt,
The Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spandau Ballet,
Quadrant,
The Move,
Shoche,
The Angels of Light,
Talk Talk,
Reagan Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Trojans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Underground Resistance,
kango's stein massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Idris Muhammad,
Yaz,
Lindisfarne,
Anthony Braxton,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crooked Eye,
Black Bananas,
The Stooges,
The Remains,
Easy Going,
Rites of Spring,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Boz Scaggs,
The Young Rascals,
Wally Richardson,
Bob Dylan,
Toni Rubio,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.