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 Jordan and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 June Days to the electroclash 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Pretty Things,
Iggy Pop,
Japan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Derrick May,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pole,
Barclay James Harvest,
Khruangbin,
Bush Tetras,
Sound Behaviour,
Reuben Wilson,
David Bowie,
T. Rex,
H. Thieme,
Peter & Gordon,
Fela Kuti,
Grauzone,
Groovy Waters,
Vainqueur,
Spandau Ballet,
Livin' Joy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Green,
Howard Jones,
Lou Christie,
Eve St. Jones,
Grey Daturas,
Cal Tjader,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter and Kerry,
Brass Construction,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fear,
Moby Grape,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gichy Dan,
Smog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Last Poets,
Camouflage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Graham Central Station,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Style,
Arcadia,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stereo Dub,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wasted Youth,
Simply Red,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
Harmonia,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.