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 Italy and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Icehouse to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Yellowson,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Y Pants,
The Real Kids,
Section 25,
The Motions,
X-101,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pere Ubu,
Hoover,
Trumans Water,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lightning Bolt,
Camberwell Now,
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Marine Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sparks,
Charles Mingus,
Ohio Players,
Ludus,
The Star Department,
The Gories,
Patti Smith,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Colin Newman,
The Move,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Tremeloes,
Heaven 17,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gabor Szabo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rosa Yemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Audionom,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Little Man,
UT,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Howard Jones,
Whodini,
Pussy Galore,
Young Marble Giants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cymande,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dirtbombs,
Q65,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare,
David Bowie,
New York Dolls,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.