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 Libya and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Public Image Ltd. to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Wasted Youth,
The Tremeloes,
DJ Sneak,
Dawn Penn,
John Cale,
Ludus,
The Knickerbockers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Osbourne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Zero Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Eve St. Jones,
Camberwell Now,
Depeche Mode,
Pere Ubu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Selecter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arcadia,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Five Americans,
Isaac Hayes,
the Slits,
Trumans Water,
June Days,
Eli Mardock,
Piero Umiliani,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marmalade,
Reagan Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
F. McDonald,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Bananas,
Crooked Eye,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
Sam Rivers,
The Leaves,
Ronnie Foster,
Slick Rick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Shoche,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minutemen,
The Smoke,
Cluster,
The Buckinghams,
Quantec,
The Zeros,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Johnny Clarke,
Erasure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vladislav Delay,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.