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 Brunei and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Aloha Tigers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Motions 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 disco 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Ornette Coleman,
June of 44,
Kas Product,
Camouflage,
Malaria!,
The Raincoats,
The Saints,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris & Cosey,
Make Up,
A Certain Ratio,
Pagans,
The Wake,
Buzzcocks,
Cameo,
The Knickerbockers,
David McCallum,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aswad,
Underground Resistance,
Mark Hollis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alphaville,
The Monochrome Set,
Supertramp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hashim,
The Fuzztones,
Brick,
Fatback Band,
The Angels of Light,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Remains,
Siglo XX,
Con Funk Shun,
Yazoo,
Ronnie Foster,
The J.B.'s,
Suburban Knight,
Vladislav Delay,
These Immortal Souls,
Avey Tare,
China Crisis,
Intrusion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Flipper,
Can,
Joey Negro,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sandy B,
Eve St. Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reagan Youth,
DJ Style,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.