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 Spain and from New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Toni Rubio to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
June of 44,
Joe Smooth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Steve Hackett,
Wire,
Flamin' Groovies,
Swans,
Inner City,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Last Poets,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Barracudas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Anthony Braxton,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Slave,
Swell Maps,
Shuggie Otis,
Von Mondo,
Drexciya,
The United States of America,
Jeff Mills,
Cybotron,
Yaz,
Reuben Wilson,
Stiv Bators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terry Callier,
Pulsallama,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes,
Black Pus,
Urselle,
Sixth Finger,
Scion,
Section 25,
Ultravox,
Oneida,
Moby Grape,
The Human League,
Easy Going,
Gong,
Erykah Badu,
Mr. Review,
New York Dolls,
Amazonics,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Dave Gahan,
Todd Terry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hot Snakes,
Morten Harket,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Holt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.