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 Sierra Leone and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 The Happenings to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Tres Demented,
Reuben Wilson,
Grey Daturas,
Bauhaus,
The Selecter,
Patti Smith,
The Gun Club,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Wake,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
MDC,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Silicon Teens,
Crash Course in Science,
These Immortal Souls,
Harry Pussy,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Clarke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Laurel Aitken,
8 Eyed Spy,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Piero Umiliani,
Animal Collective,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terry Callier,
Smog,
JFA,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare,
The Music Machine,
Shuggie Otis,
Mad Mike,
Rod Modell,
The Misunderstood,
Clear Light,
Jacob Miller,
Sam Rivers,
The Slackers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tim Buckley,
Symarip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Man Parrish,
Wasted Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
Kayak,
The Grass Roots,
Popol Vuh,
Vladislav Delay,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sixth Finger,
Icehouse,
Skaos,
the Association,
Tropical Tobacco,
Buzzcocks,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.