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 Somalia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Aswad to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yellowson,
The Remains,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
John Lydon,
Henry Cow,
Youth Brigade,
Moebius,
Pole,
Scott Walker,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fear,
Eve St. Jones,
Oblivians,
K-Klass,
Scrapy,
James White and The Blacks,
The American Breed,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gap Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
Parry Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fela Kuti,
Slick Rick,
Symarip,
Fatback Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Panda Bear,
The Moody Blues,
The J.B.'s,
The Busters,
Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
Infiniti,
Wire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Carl Craig,
Lungfish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
The Fire Engines,
The Zeros,
The Black Dice,
Niagra,
the Swans,
Patti Smith,
ABBA,
Alison Limerick,
Steve Hackett,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.