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 Malaysia and from London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator 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 Prince Buster to the punk 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Jeff Lynne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Popol Vuh,
Pole,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
Arab on Radar,
Theoretical Girls,
Arcadia,
Erasure,
Television,
Aural Exciters,
Monolake,
Yellowson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Faraquet,
Gichy Dan,
Das Ding,
kango's stein massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxette,
Maleditus Sound,
Malaria!,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hashim,
Bill Wells,
Marc Almond,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Letta Mbulu,
Babytalk,
The Moleskins,
Silicon Teens,
World's Most,
Dark Day,
The Names,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Albert Ayler,
Josef K,
Y Pants,
Boz Scaggs,
Funkadelic,
Spandau Ballet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Godley & Creme,
Susan Cadogan,
Trumans Water,
Skarface,
Franke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
U.S. Maple,
Q65,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scientists,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
Pierre Henry,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.