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 China and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Walker Brothers to the rock 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barbara Tucker,
Bronski Beat,
The Divine Comedy,
FM Einheit,
Country Teasers,
Pierre Henry,
CMW,
Faust,
John Foxx,
The Selecter,
Maurizio,
Nirvana,
Janne Schatter,
Juan Atkins,
Todd Terry,
Suicide,
Sam Rivers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mad Mike,
This Heat,
The Five Americans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tres Demented,
Eurythmics,
Black Bananas,
Sandy B,
Cheater Slicks,
Scion,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
Godley & Creme,
Slick Rick,
Sister Nancy,
The Fortunes,
Jeff Mills,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bill Wells,
Panda Bear,
The Black Dice,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lower 48,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
EPMD,
Erasure,
Con Funk Shun,
Little Man,
Glambeats Corp.,
T. Rex,
Eric Copeland,
Wolf Eyes,
David McCallum,
Q and Not U,
Deakin,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.