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 Malaysia and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Avey Tare to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Wyatt,
Dawn Penn,
Sällskapet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
The Index,
Kas Product,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slits,
The Mojo Men,
Skarface,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Fraelich,
The Kinks,
June Days,
Spandau Ballet,
Eli Mardock,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camberwell Now,
Shuggie Otis,
Charles Mingus,
Urselle,
Joy Division,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Todd Rundgren,
Rites of Spring,
Simply Red,
Roxette,
Kenny Larkin,
Sugar Minott,
Khruangbin,
Laurel Aitken,
Sound Behaviour,
Mo-Dettes,
Minnie Riperton,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
The Selecter,
Fluxion,
Livin' Joy,
Rosa Yemen,
Thee Headcoats,
Maleditus Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Deadbeat,
Peter and Kerry,
Easy Going,
The Moleskins,
The Birthday Party,
Steve Hackett,
Ken Boothe,
the Normal,
Piero Umiliani,
The Beau Brummels,
Flipper,
John Cale,
Boredoms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.