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 Argentina and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 The Dead C to the dance 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Newcleus,
The Mojo Men,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed,
The Gories,
Barrington Levy,
Kaleidoscope,
the Human League,
Electric Light Orchestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Roy Ayers,
Zero Boys,
The Sound,
Mantronix,
Faraquet,
Jeff Mills,
Chris Corsano,
The Beau Brummels,
Y Pants,
JFA,
The Fortunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Model 500,
Michelle Simonal,
The Evens,
Basic Channel,
Fear,
the Soft Cell,
the Normal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Neil Young,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Zapp,
Can,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
Skaos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cybotron,
The Blues Magoos,
Isaac Hayes,
The Martian,
The Cramps,
Alton Ellis,
Funkadelic,
Scion,
Bauhaus,
Slick Rick,
Sun City Girls,
Half Japanese,
Chris & Cosey,
Arab on Radar,
Deepchord,
Negative Approach,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Black Dice,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.