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 Cambodia and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Suburban Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
Althea and Donna,
ABC,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Section 25,
Yazoo,
Newcleus,
Funky Four + One,
Laurel Aitken,
Accadde A,
James White and The Blacks,
Moebius,
Zapp,
Visage,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Second Layer,
Agitation Free,
Donny Hathaway,
The Human League,
Grey Daturas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blossom Toes,
Piero Umiliani,
June of 44,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aural Exciters,
Y Pants,
The Associates,
Public Enemy,
The Fire Engines,
Jeff Mills,
Junior Murvin,
Talk Talk,
Scrapy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Clear Light,
DJ Style,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Moon,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
Bobby Womack,
Eurythmics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
JFA,
cv313,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.