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 India and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tropical Tobacco to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Max Romeo,
Lucky Dragons,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Blackbyrds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
H. Thieme,
Q and Not U,
Skriet,
Depeche Mode,
The Moleskins,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Davy DMX,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magma,
Tubeway Army,
The Last Poets,
Stereo Dub,
The Modern Lovers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Con Funk Shun,
The Five Americans,
Morten Harket,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stetsasonic,
The Human League,
10cc,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Godley & Creme,
Ossler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Victims,
Minor Threat,
Clear Light,
The Saints,
Ponytail,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fatback Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
The Litter,
Y Pants,
The Dead C,
Excepter,
Motorama,
Susan Cadogan,
The Mummies,
Terry Callier,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Au Pairs,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.