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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Alice Coltrane to the disco 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Liliput,
Kurtis Blow,
The Barracudas,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minny Pops,
The Buckinghams,
Yazoo,
Rites of Spring,
David Bowie,
Trumans Water,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Crispy Ambulance,
June Days,
Suicide,
Eurythmics,
Pylon,
Audionom,
Ken Boothe,
Grauzone,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
AZ,
F. McDonald,
Reuben Wilson,
Circle Jerks,
Television Personalities,
John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
The Pop Group,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
Nils Olav,
The Real Kids,
New Order,
Neil Young,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Lynne,
Nas,
Ronnie Foster,
Tubeway Army,
Porter Ricks,
The Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
Magma,
The Cure,
Todd Terry,
Robert Wyatt,
Vainqueur,
The Monks,
Drexciya,
Laurel Aitken,
Radio Birdman,
Joy Division,
Desert Stars,
DJ Sneak,
Cal Tjader,
Minnie Riperton,
Echospace,
The Invisible,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.