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 Marshall Islands and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Johnny Osbourne to the punk 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Fad Gadget,
The Velvet Underground,
Alphaville,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sugar Minott,
Joensuu 1685,
Alton Ellis,
Erykah Badu,
The Five Americans,
The Motions,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Scrapy,
Ultravox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Copeland,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Order,
Black Sheep,
June Days,
These Immortal Souls,
B.T. Express,
The Smiths,
Howard Jones,
Darondo,
Vladislav Delay,
Q65,
D'Angelo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rufus Thomas,
Wasted Youth,
Groovy Waters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cameo,
Das Ding,
The Fall,
Morten Harket,
The Victims,
The Litter,
Henry Cow,
Au Pairs,
AZ,
Lungfish,
Godley & Creme,
the Slits,
The American Breed,
Crispian St. Peters,
Theoretical Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
The Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Saints,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.