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 Turkmenistan and from New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the electroclash 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Holt,
The Golliwogs,
The Leaves,
Maleditus Sound,
Section 25,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grauzone,
The Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joey Negro,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crooked Eye,
Shoche,
DJ Style,
Alison Limerick,
The Fall,
The Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
Parry Music,
Bobby Womack,
Scott Walker,
Althea and Donna,
Chris Corsano,
Adolescents,
Rekid,
Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Judy Mowatt,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Finger,
Steve Hackett,
Metal Thangz,
Fear,
Mars,
Erykah Badu,
The Vogues,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pulsallama,
The Misunderstood,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barry Ungar,
Oneida,
Byron Stingily,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Boz Scaggs,
Half Japanese,
Television,
The United States of America,
Amon Düül,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Junior Murvin,
Godley & Creme,
The Invisible,
Sun City Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.