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 Afghanistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Niagra to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Brothers Johnson,
E-Dancer,
Guru Guru,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dawn Penn,
Bobbi Humphrey,
kango's stein massive,
Terry Callier,
Scientists,
The Leaves,
The Young Rascals,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Clarke,
Jawbox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aloha Tigers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mojo Men,
Depeche Mode,
Joy Division,
The American Breed,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flipper,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
Franke,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
Arcadia,
Black Flag,
Index,
Soul II Soul,
Q and Not U,
Half Japanese,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eddi Front,
Lucky Dragons,
Neu!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dennis Brown,
T.S.O.L.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Cell,
Laurel Aitken,
Fear,
Scion,
The Busters,
Porter Ricks,
Tommy Roe,
Rites of Spring,
Marine Girls,
H. Thieme,
Joe Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
The Dead C,
Lungfish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.