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 Gabon and from Toronto.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Dirtbombs to the rap 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
The Pretty Things,
the Slits,
Barrington Levy,
Flipper,
Warsaw,
Khruangbin,
Fear,
Franke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joe Finger,
Minutemen,
June of 44,
Soul II Soul,
Yaz,
The Modern Lovers,
The Walker Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
The Five Americans,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doors,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Görl,
Pussy Galore,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Howard Jones,
Kenny Larkin,
Stereo Dub,
Television,
EPMD,
Rotary Connection,
Gabor Szabo,
Youth Brigade,
Buzzcocks,
The Motions,
Arab on Radar,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Music Machine,
Zapp,
Barry Ungar,
New Age Steppers,
Lungfish,
Iggy Pop,
Siglo XX,
Sandy B,
The Monks,
Little Man,
Scott Walker,
David McCallum,
Morten Harket,
Derrick Morgan,
Surgeon,
Graham Central Station,
Faraquet,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.