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 Barbados 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Accadde A to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Matthew Halsall,
Rufus Thomas,
Iggy Pop,
Technova,
Kenny Larkin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Fatback Band,
Simply Red,
Crooked Eye,
Ken Boothe,
Tears for Fears,
Skarface,
Cluster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cheater Slicks,
The Stooges,
Organ,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Henry Cow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Warren Ellis,
Bronski Beat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
UT,
Amazonics,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New York Dolls,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
Section 25,
Peter and Kerry,
Swans,
Scion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Los Fastidios,
The Remains,
Blossom Toes,
Pantytec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Unwound,
Slave,
Qualms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scan 7,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Real Kids,
X-102,
David Axelrod,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.