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 Senegal and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Stockholm Monsters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Absolute Body Control,
Heaven 17,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oblivians,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rites of Spring,
The Blues Magoos,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blossom Toes,
Marc Almond,
Wire,
Eurythmics,
John Lydon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Essential Logic,
PIL,
Prince Buster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Niagra,
Rotary Connection,
Siglo XX,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Clear Light,
Barry Ungar,
Ponytail,
Black Bananas,
Deadbeat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Skarface,
Ohio Players,
Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
Patti Smith,
The Gories,
The Standells,
Black Moon,
John Holt,
The Searchers,
Ituana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Maurizio,
Au Pairs,
the Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faust,
Peter & Gordon,
The Golliwogs,
Bush Tetras,
Jacob Miller,
The Blackbyrds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Womack,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.