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 Malta and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Smog to the electroclash 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Clear Light,
Arcadia,
Joyce Sims,
kango's stein massive,
Mars,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Intrusion,
the Association,
The Moody Blues,
Eddi Front,
Byron Stingily,
Can,
Brand Nubian,
Cluster,
Scrapy,
PIL,
David Axelrod,
Deakin,
Jacob Miller,
MDC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Terrestrial Tones,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chris Corsano,
Fluxion,
MC5,
Amon Düül,
T.S.O.L.,
R.M.O.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The J.B.'s,
Iggy Pop,
The Kinks,
Masters at Work,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Matthew Halsall,
Babytalk,
Dark Day,
Warsaw,
Tubeway Army,
Graham Central Station,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harry Pussy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Arab on Radar,
Max Romeo,
Barry Ungar,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Average White Band,
Mr. Review,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.