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 Malawi and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minutemen,
Robert Hood,
Magma,
Lee Hazlewood,
Todd Terry,
Marmalade,
The Selecter,
The Associates,
Index,
Das Ding,
Hot Snakes,
H. Thieme,
Mad Mike,
Joe Smooth,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Barracudas,
Erasure,
Kenny Larkin,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lucky Dragons,
Arthur Verocai,
Harmonia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Happenings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mr. Review,
Maurizio,
Moby Grape,
Slave,
Nik Kershaw,
Funky Four + One,
World's Most,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
Gang of Four,
Motorama,
Eric Copeland,
New Order,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hoover,
The Moody Blues,
Main Source,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Lebanon Hanover,
B.T. Express,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Reed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yaz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cure,
Buzzcocks,
Organ,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.