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 Tanzania and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rap 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ice-T,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Leaves,
Amazonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Adolescents,
In Retrospect,
The Star Department,
ABBA,
Suicide,
the Human League,
The J.B.'s,
Outsiders,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
F. McDonald,
Main Source,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fat Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grey Daturas,
the Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blake Baxter,
Rod Modell,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flash Fearless,
Mr. Review,
Royal Trux,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monochrome Set,
Anthony Braxton,
Angry Samoans,
OOIOO,
Sex Pistols,
Suburban Knight,
T. Rex,
X-101,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marine Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faraquet,
Junior Murvin,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Wake,
Lucky Dragons,
Parry Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Maleditus Sound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Shuggie Otis,
Rapeman,
Roy Ayers,
Howard Jones,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.