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 Moldova and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 The Flesh Eaters to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Model 500,
Arcadia,
Tomorrow,
Ossler,
The Real Kids,
Tres Demented,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Faraquet,
Agent Orange,
Niagra,
In Retrospect,
Henry Cow,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Wyatt,
Faust,
David Bowie,
Slick Rick,
Index,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
10cc,
The Trojans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Simply Red,
Ice-T,
The Saints,
Slave,
Desert Stars,
Terry Callier,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
LL Cool J,
Amazonics,
MC5,
James White and The Blacks,
The Slits,
Loose Ends,
Throbbing Gristle,
Magazine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Audionom,
Josef K,
Hashim,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare,
The Misunderstood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxy Music,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
Nik Kershaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cure,
Marine Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.