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 Cameroon and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Public Enemy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Residents,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
Fluxion,
Black Moon,
Amon Düül II,
The Human League,
The United States of America,
The Neon Judgement,
Donald Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Germs,
Judy Mowatt,
Blancmange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scan 7,
Porter Ricks,
The Five Americans,
Sugar Minott,
New Age Steppers,
Boredoms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Maleditus Sound,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
The Pretty Things,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Deadbeat,
Eve St. Jones,
Flash Fearless,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swans,
DJ Style,
Fatback Band,
Visage,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
Niagra,
Wings,
China Crisis,
Man Parrish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
B.T. Express,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Real Kids,
June of 44,
Boz Scaggs,
The Vogues,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Görl,
Deepchord,
Rod Modell,
Rotary Connection,
Can,
Jacob Miller,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
F. McDonald,
The Monks,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.