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 Korea North and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Camberwell Now to the punk 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Hoover,
Camouflage,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magazine,
Popol Vuh,
Marvin Gaye,
Niagra,
Danielle Patucci,
Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Gil Scott Heron,
Theoretical Girls,
Oblivians,
Black Sheep,
Inner City,
Surgeon,
Accadde A,
the Slits,
Hot Snakes,
Donald Byrd,
The Sonics,
Brass Construction,
Magma,
Minutemen,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Pus,
The Cure,
The Cramps,
Buzzcocks,
X-102,
Toni Rubio,
Cheater Slicks,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
LL Cool J,
Rapeman,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Urselle,
The Names,
Henry Cow,
Black Bananas,
Juan Atkins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slave,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Durutti Column,
Eli Mardock,
Bad Manners,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boredoms,
Faust,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.