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 Bangladesh and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Procol Harum,
Gichy Dan,
Sun Ra,
Q and Not U,
Popol Vuh,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minor Threat,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kaleidoscope,
The J.B.'s,
James White and The Blacks,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Sherman,
Zapp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
CMW,
Sugar Minott,
X-102,
the Sonics,
Bobby Byrd,
The Victims,
Sun City Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Half Japanese,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
Supertramp,
Eden Ahbez,
The Wake,
The Evens,
Jeff Lynne,
The Saints,
Rekid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Interpol,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter & Gordon,
The Pop Group,
Steve Hackett,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Christie,
The Sonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mark Hollis,
the Swans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pole,
Nirvana,
Gong,
Tom Boy,
Crime,
Todd Terry,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.