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 Pakistan and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gabor Szabo to the dance 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
Radiohead,
Monolake,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amon Düül II,
Popol Vuh,
June of 44,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sight & Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
The Modern Lovers,
Saccharine Trust,
Nico,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
Reuben Wilson,
Echospace,
Arthur Verocai,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sister Nancy,
The Count Five,
kango's stein massive,
Hasil Adkins,
Underground Resistance,
The Offenders,
Tim Buckley,
Patti Smith,
The Invisible,
Q and Not U,
Smog,
Soul II Soul,
The Monks,
Dawn Penn,
Swans,
Pussy Galore,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage,
X-102,
Rosa Yemen,
Young Marble Giants,
Jacques Brel,
Jawbox,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Outsiders,
The Motions,
One Last Wish,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Clarke,
The Walker Brothers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Henry Cow,
Yellowson,
OOIOO,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.