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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tommy Roe to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
The Slits,
Skarface,
Aloha Tigers,
Eve St. Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
ABC,
Mark Hollis,
R.M.O.,
Can,
Eden Ahbez,
Index,
The Residents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scientists,
Ludus,
The Knickerbockers,
Brothers Johnson,
Scratch Acid,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Royal Trux,
The Mojo Men,
The Golliwogs,
Connie Case,
Boz Scaggs,
The Leaves,
Marc Almond,
Ohio Players,
Black Sheep,
The Divine Comedy,
Q65,
Hasil Adkins,
David Bowie,
Bootsy Collins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Stooges,
Babytalk,
Cheater Slicks,
Darondo,
The Monks,
Siglo XX,
X-101,
The Vogues,
Fluxion,
Mandrill,
Erasure,
Ice-T,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Human League,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grauzone,
Sam Rivers,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Leonard Cohen,
Isaac Hayes,
Massinfluence,
Piero Umiliani,
Shoche,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.