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 South Sudan and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slits to the crunk 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Jawbox,
The Fuzztones,
Laurel Aitken,
Newcleus,
The Cramps,
The New Christs,
Blake Baxter,
World's Most,
Half Japanese,
Robert Görl,
Black Moon,
Surgeon,
The Vogues,
This Heat,
Boredoms,
Blossom Toes,
Camouflage,
Moebius,
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moody Blues,
U.S. Maple,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neu!,
The Neon Judgement,
Agitation Free,
Tubeway Army,
D'Angelo,
Y Pants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fat Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
Amazonics,
Blancmange,
The Standells,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mr. Review,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
La Düsseldorf,
Patti Smith,
Essential Logic,
Colin Newman,
China Crisis,
The Sound,
Funky Four + One,
Yellowson,
Theoretical Girls,
Deakin,
the Sonics,
Negative Approach,
Thee Headcoats,
John Foxx,
Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Underground Resistance,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Halsall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.