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 Taiwan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the rock 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Angels of Light,
Theoretical Girls,
Harmonia,
Gichy Dan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Barracudas,
The American Breed,
Pole,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cal Tjader,
Harry Pussy,
Camouflage,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Archie Shepp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
The Techniques,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arcadia,
The Invisible,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Misunderstood,
The Martian,
Max Romeo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kas Product,
Eric Dolphy,
The United States of America,
Bobby Byrd,
Roxy Music,
Bootsy Collins,
Bluetip,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Sex Pistols,
The Alarm Clocks,
Banda Bassotti,
Icehouse,
Television,
Bob Dylan,
Flash Fearless,
OOIOO,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Underground Resistance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eli Mardock,
Gong,
New Order,
Junior Murvin,
Index,
Whodini,
Erykah Badu,
The Beau Brummels,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.