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 Kyrgyzstan and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
U.S. Maple,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Q and Not U,
MC5,
Donald Byrd,
Idris Muhammad,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gabor Szabo,
Barrington Levy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
AZ,
Bobby Womack,
The Flesh Eaters,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Machine,
The Moleskins,
Joensuu 1685,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pulsallama,
Sparks,
Eric Dolphy,
Joe Smooth,
The Grass Roots,
Grauzone,
Nick Fraelich,
Kenny Larkin,
Goldenarms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
Model 500,
Royal Trux,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flipper,
The Evens,
Cheater Slicks,
Warsaw,
Severed Heads,
Ultravox,
The Wake,
Deepchord,
Scion,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Schoolly D,
The Fuzztones,
Suicide,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Laurel Aitken,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fugazi,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.