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 France and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 rap 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Mars,
Patti Smith,
Franke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nils Olav,
Traffic Nightmare,
Smog,
Fear,
Freddie Wadling,
Eurythmics,
Yazoo,
FM Einheit,
Jerry's Kids,
Sandy B,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Excepter,
Lucky Dragons,
Khruangbin,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
the Sonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
OOIOO,
John Foxx,
Judy Mowatt,
Albert Ayler,
The Martian,
Graham Central Station,
Ten City,
Oblivians,
John Lydon,
Oneida,
Arthur Verocai,
The Zeros,
Pagans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Loose Ends,
Todd Rundgren,
Todd Terry,
Darondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Subhumans,
Gong,
Sun Ra,
Toni Rubio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Godley & Creme,
Robert Wyatt,
the Normal,
Drexciya,
Q and Not U,
The Velvet Underground,
Prince Buster,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Invisible,
Swans,
Kas Product,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.