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 Congo and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fortunes,
Fad Gadget,
Goldenarms,
Deepchord,
Spoonie Gee,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Durutti Column,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
Tim Buckley,
Scan 7,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marine Girls,
In Retrospect,
Camberwell Now,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fluxion,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pretty Things,
T.S.O.L.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David McCallum,
Isaac Hayes,
Peter & Gordon,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tears for Fears,
Section 25,
The Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
Brass Construction,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fela Kuti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Traffic Nightmare,
Prince Buster,
Spandau Ballet,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minutemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
JFA,
Subhumans,
Archie Shepp,
Fear,
The Beau Brummels,
Television Personalities,
Bronski Beat,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.