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 Romania and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Simply Red to the dance 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Supertramp,
Sight & Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stetsasonic,
Max Romeo,
Underground Resistance,
Suburban Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Busters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Offenders,
In Retrospect,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eli Mardock,
The Real Kids,
Letta Mbulu,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Happenings,
Spandau Ballet,
Sällskapet,
Scrapy,
Skarface,
Laurel Aitken,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobbi Humphrey,
This Heat,
Echospace,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Young Marble Giants,
Swell Maps,
Prince Buster,
Vainqueur,
Massinfluence,
Can,
Rotary Connection,
Saccharine Trust,
Barclay James Harvest,
Erasure,
Scratch Acid,
The Dirtbombs,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
Depeche Mode,
Smog,
Nils Olav,
Junior Murvin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blancmange,
Moebius,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ossler,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Gang Dance,
Animal Collective,
Shoche,
Duran Duran,
The Pop Group,
JFA,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.