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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Winnipeg.
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 Beijing and London.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fatback Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Lindisfarne,
Bauhaus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dual Sessions,
Derrick Morgan,
Ponytail,
Youth Brigade,
D'Angelo,
Alphaville,
Infiniti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Hill,
Nik Kershaw,
Deadbeat,
Soft Machine,
The Cowsills,
Moebius,
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
The Red Krayola,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Connie Case,
John Foxx,
Arcadia,
Can,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Porter Ricks,
F. McDonald,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
FM Einheit,
Pantytec,
June of 44,
The Human League,
The Mummies,
Sonny Sharrock,
James White and The Blacks,
Deakin,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hoover,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Patti Smith,
Slave,
The Leaves,
Johnny Clarke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Drexciya,
Inner City,
Laurel Aitken,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cal Tjader,
The Slits,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.