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 Burkina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 The Star Department to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Inner City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Subhumans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scrapy,
The Pop Group,
Man Eating Sloth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultimate Spinach,
New York Dolls,
Au Pairs,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
Aural Exciters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Moebius,
Freddie Wadling,
The Toasters,
Stereo Dub,
Radiohead,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gories,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soft Machine,
The Dead C,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
Jawbox,
Intrusion,
Hashim,
DJ Style,
Archie Shepp,
The Searchers,
Lakeside,
Alton Ellis,
Mars,
Dave Gahan,
Ponytail,
Swans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soft Cell,
Hoover,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
Pylon,
Underground Resistance,
Visage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alison Limerick,
Bob Dylan,
Whodini,
The Motions,
Aloha Tigers,
Audionom,
The Dirtbombs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Livin' Joy,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.