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 United States and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Throbbing Gristle to the rock 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Mandrill,
the Normal,
The Vogues,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Patti Smith,
Audionom,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sight & Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David McCallum,
The Buckinghams,
Rod Modell,
The Velvet Underground,
Metal Thangz,
Rotary Connection,
Ornette Coleman,
Deepchord,
Rekid,
The Monks,
Neil Young,
Delon & Dalcan,
Banda Bassotti,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra,
Das Ding,
Tomorrow,
The Count Five,
New Age Steppers,
Oblivians,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
Brand Nubian,
Model 500,
The Tremeloes,
The Techniques,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sandy B,
Lalo Schifrin,
Spandau Ballet,
Slick Rick,
Amazonics,
JFA,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Womack,
EPMD,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angry Samoans,
The Move,
the Bar-Kays,
MC5,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.