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 Colombia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Barclay James Harvest to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
Public Enemy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
Buzzcocks,
The Moleskins,
the Human League,
Oblivians,
Camberwell Now,
The Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Model 500,
Quando Quango,
Radio Birdman,
L. Decosne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q65,
The Mighty Diamonds,
These Immortal Souls,
Dawn Penn,
The Associates,
Newcleus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Judy Mowatt,
Interpol,
Blancmange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Swell Maps,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blossom Toes,
Duran Duran,
Jerry's Kids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
JFA,
The Stooges,
Popol Vuh,
Oneida,
The Barracudas,
X-Ray Spex,
Flash Fearless,
H. Thieme,
Erasure,
E-Dancer,
Lindisfarne,
the Slits,
Scientists,
Nas,
MDC,
John Foxx,
Jeff Mills,
F. McDonald,
June of 44,
Subhumans,
Jawbox,
Idris Muhammad,
John Lydon,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.