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 Pakistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Birthday Party to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Grauzone,
Surgeon,
Pantytec,
Rapeman,
The Trojans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric Dolphy,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mummies,
Cameo,
B.T. Express,
Josef K,
Lalo Schifrin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
These Immortal Souls,
Tears for Fears,
The Tremeloes,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Goldenarms,
A Certain Ratio,
Oblivians,
Scion,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vainqueur,
Gang of Four,
Leonard Cohen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Laurel Aitken,
Kenny Larkin,
DJ Style,
Johnny Clarke,
Quando Quango,
Susan Cadogan,
Tropical Tobacco,
PIL,
Bang On A Can,
Niagra,
Mandrill,
Eric Copeland,
Motorama,
Livin' Joy,
Glenn Branca,
Arab on Radar,
Agitation Free,
Absolute Body Control,
Brass Construction,
48th St. Collective,
FM Einheit,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joy Division,
Japan,
Qualms,
Idris Muhammad,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.