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 Ivory Coast and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pierre Henry to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
T. Rex,
The Slackers,
Minutemen,
Faust,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
The Smiths,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cowsills,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric Copeland,
Simply Red,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Talk Talk,
Throbbing Gristle,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Youth Brigade,
Swell Maps,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Underground Resistance,
Camberwell Now,
Khruangbin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Remains,
UT,
Curtis Mayfield,
Idris Muhammad,
James White and The Blacks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Mummies,
Wolf Eyes,
Los Fastidios,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Golliwogs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Eve St. Jones,
Television Personalities,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Count Five,
Albert Ayler,
The Monochrome Set,
Outsiders,
Loose Ends,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Lakeside,
The Move,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Modern Lovers,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.