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 Congo and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 David Bowie to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Depeche Mode,
Patti Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Parry Music,
The Buckinghams,
Susan Cadogan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terry Callier,
Pere Ubu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
Television,
World's Most,
Infiniti,
The Fortunes,
Josef K,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fugs,
New Order,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kevin Saunderson,
H. Thieme,
Desert Stars,
June of 44,
Stereo Dub,
John Lydon,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
John Coltrane,
Moby Grape,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thee Headcoats,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Sneak,
Niagra,
Agent Orange,
Ralphi Rosario,
Little Man,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Von Mondo,
Unwound,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Real Kids,
Hot Snakes,
The Durutti Column,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skarface,
Underground Resistance,
Mr. Review,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gories,
PIL,
Dennis Brown,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.