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 India and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bluetip to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slackers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Surgeon,
Black Sheep,
Delta 5,
The Residents,
Moebius,
Minnie Riperton,
Anthony Braxton,
Boogie Down Productions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Underground Resistance,
Monolake,
Iggy Pop,
The Mojo Men,
Zapp,
Basic Channel,
Robert Wyatt,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cramps,
Gang Gang Dance,
Khruangbin,
China Crisis,
Bill Near,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Yellowson,
Marine Girls,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Vainqueur,
Jeff Lynne,
Quantec,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quadrant,
Whodini,
Tim Buckley,
Schoolly D,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Infiniti,
Franke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Electric Prunes,
DNA,
Cymande,
Nas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Moleskins,
Scan 7,
Reuben Wilson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.