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 Mozambique 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin 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 Mission of Burma to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
China Crisis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Gong,
Scratch Acid,
Television,
The Gun Club,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Accadde A,
Ultravox,
E-Dancer,
The Saints,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cowsills,
Altered Images,
Harpers Bizarre,
Franke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scion,
Harry Pussy,
These Immortal Souls,
Theoretical Girls,
Jandek,
Whodini,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tubeway Army,
H. Thieme,
Public Enemy,
the Bar-Kays,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marvin Gaye,
LL Cool J,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Starr,
John Holt,
John Coltrane,
ABBA,
Gregory Isaacs,
Zero Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Wake,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Neu!,
The Stooges,
The United States of America,
Parry Music,
The Music Machine,
Althea and Donna,
the Slits,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Barracudas,
Q65,
Danielle Patucci,
Unwound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.