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 Algeria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Amon Düül II to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
The Monks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mark Hollis,
Accadde A,
Dual Sessions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Neil Young,
Newcleus,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Cale,
Radiohead,
Wally Richardson,
the Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins,
Mo-Dettes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ten City,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
Unwound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
The Busters,
Dennis Brown,
Grey Daturas,
Sun Ra,
Section 25,
Sugar Minott,
The Kinks,
Barrington Levy,
The Cramps,
Carl Craig,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Groovy Waters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
R.M.O.,
The Offenders,
Reagan Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soft Machine,
Albert Ayler,
In Retrospect,
Oneida,
Henry Cow,
Alphaville,
Soul Sonic Force,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Walker Brothers,
Index,
Amazonics,
Average White Band,
John Holt,
Joyce Sims,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Neon Judgement,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Don Cherry,
Agitation Free,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.