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 Tonga and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Grauzone,
Slave,
Crime,
Silicon Teens,
Japan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Last Poets,
Inner City,
The Mojo Men,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultra Naté,
Main Source,
Fear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Godley & Creme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sixth Finger,
Radiohead,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Buckinghams,
Joensuu 1685,
F. McDonald,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Josef K,
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
The Fuzztones,
Ken Boothe,
Eurythmics,
Robert Hood,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nation of Ulysses,
Procol Harum,
DJ Sneak,
Schoolly D,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Remains,
Flipper,
Bronski Beat,
Dead Boys,
Byron Stingily,
Yusef Lateef,
Chris Corsano,
Arthur Verocai,
Trumans Water,
Stiv Bators,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.