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 Liberia and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Joy Division to the dance 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
AZ,
48th St. Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
the Association,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Almond,
Pole,
David McCallum,
Q and Not U,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Skatalites,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
B.T. Express,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
Archie Shepp,
Smog,
Curtis Mayfield,
Angry Samoans,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
Sparks,
The Sonics,
Shuggie Otis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Junior Murvin,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Byrd,
The Pretty Things,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donald Byrd,
Roxy Music,
Surgeon,
Roxette,
Sound Behaviour,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Moon,
Letta Mbulu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nirvana,
Ossler,
Brand Nubian,
Joe Finger,
MDC,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.