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 Colombia and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Tim Buckley to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
La Düsseldorf,
The Invisible,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Barbara Tucker,
Radiohead,
Michelle Simonal,
Yellowson,
Scrapy,
Harry Pussy,
The Skatalites,
DJ Sneak,
Popol Vuh,
Todd Rundgren,
John Foxx,
Essential Logic,
Royal Trux,
Visage,
Model 500,
Boredoms,
Moebius,
Jacob Miller,
New Age Steppers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fatback Band,
Charles Mingus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Minor Threat,
Minutemen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dead C,
Fugazi,
Wolf Eyes,
John Holt,
Simply Red,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quando Quango,
Liliput,
The Monks,
L. Decosne,
The Trojans,
Depeche Mode,
Eric Copeland,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gun Club,
In Retrospect,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare,
JFA,
Nirvana,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Associates,
LL Cool J,
The Martian,
Rod Modell,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.