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 Samoa and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Slackers to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Ossler,
Black Pus,
Clear Light,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
MDC,
Juan Atkins,
Skriet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Guru Guru,
The Birthday Party,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Flag,
Spandau Ballet,
Eddi Front,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rapeman,
The Evens,
The Misunderstood,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
Toni Rubio,
Mantronix,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gladiators,
The Doors,
Jacques Brel,
Shoche,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Moleskins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lungfish,
Royal Trux,
The Trojans,
Graham Central Station,
Arcadia,
Archie Shepp,
Yazoo,
Nirvana,
Connie Case,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James White and The Blacks,
Infiniti,
Roxy Music,
Unwound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Music Machine,
Radio Birdman,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Parrish,
the Bar-Kays,
The New Christs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sarah Menescal,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Smooth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.