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 Papua New Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Tres Demented to the electroclash 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Halsall,
The Wake,
Symarip,
The American Breed,
Babytalk,
Harry Pussy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Flag,
New Age Steppers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Dolphy,
Accadde A,
The Associates,
Zero Boys,
CMW,
Mantronix,
The Human League,
Trumans Water,
The Buckinghams,
kango's stein massive,
Sällskapet,
F. McDonald,
the Swans,
Harmonia,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Foxx,
Donny Hathaway,
Adolescents,
Ken Boothe,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
The Slits,
The Motions,
E-Dancer,
Scrapy,
Skarface,
Bronski Beat,
Moby Grape,
Ossler,
Ludus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Moon,
The Electric Prunes,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nico,
The Raincoats,
Y Pants,
Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Intrusion,
Morten Harket,
Marc Almond,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca,
June Days,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.