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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Underground Resistance to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Fad Gadget,
John Coltrane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nico,
Yellowson,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Franke,
La Düsseldorf,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
Yusef Lateef,
Minnie Riperton,
R.M.O.,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spandau Ballet,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Charles Mingus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Livin' Joy,
Throbbing Gristle,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
The Searchers,
Jeff Mills,
Slave,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
Angry Samoans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fall,
The J.B.'s,
H. Thieme,
Reuben Wilson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Slits,
Trumans Water,
Infiniti,
Rekid,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sound Behaviour,
Country Teasers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roxy Music,
New Order,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Barrington Levy,
K-Klass,
The Beau Brummels,
Faust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Patti Smith,
Grey Daturas,
Stiv Bators,
Mandrill,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.