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 Spain and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope 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?
The Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tom Boy,
The Blues Magoos,
Alton Ellis,
Magazine,
Don Cherry,
Scientists,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ronan,
Main Source,
The Skatalites,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Saccharine Trust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grey Daturas,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yusef Lateef,
Arthur Verocai,
Ohio Players,
Quadrant,
Gregory Isaacs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Subhumans,
Mark Hollis,
the Normal,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hot Snakes,
Pere Ubu,
Heaven 17,
Alice Coltrane,
Mad Mike,
Johnny Clarke,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Hood,
H. Thieme,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
Terry Callier,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Beau Brummels,
Aaron Thompson,
The Smoke,
L. Decosne,
Severed Heads,
The Zeros,
Mary Jane Girls,
Second Layer,
Fat Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Grauzone,
EPMD,
Nation of Ulysses,
Loose Ends,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Massinfluence,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.