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 Uganda and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chris & Cosey to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fela Kuti,
The Cure,
Accadde A,
Lungfish,
Ronnie Foster,
Pussy Galore,
Basic Channel,
Marine Girls,
Animal Collective,
Arthur Verocai,
The Blues Magoos,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Zero Boys,
Symarip,
Chrome,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Womack,
Tears for Fears,
The Invisible,
AZ,
Schoolly D,
June Days,
Rapeman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pole,
Lou Christie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Swans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Max Romeo,
Rufus Thomas,
Metal Thangz,
Glenn Branca,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Malaria!,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
La Düsseldorf,
Blancmange,
The Remains,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Suburban Knight,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.