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 Paraguay and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Gladiators to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Deepchord,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
Radiohead,
Wire,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash,
The American Breed,
Spoonie Gee,
Rakim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Max Romeo,
Babytalk,
Black Bananas,
The Mojo Men,
Sound Behaviour,
The Beau Brummels,
Joey Negro,
Porter Ricks,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Slits,
The Fall,
The Cramps,
Sam Rivers,
Derrick May,
H. Thieme,
Index,
The Saints,
Eden Ahbez,
The Motions,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Osbourne,
Maurizio,
The Sonics,
Visage,
Jawbox,
Ossler,
Soft Machine,
Television,
Urselle,
T. Rex,
Swans,
Essential Logic,
New Order,
Skriet,
Underground Resistance,
Idris Muhammad,
The Moody Blues,
Eli Mardock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pierre Henry,
Patti Smith,
Tres Demented,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dead Boys,
Amon Düül II,
The Evens,
Nico,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.