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 Austria and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Junior Murvin to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
Lightning Bolt,
Drive Like Jehu,
EPMD,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Godley & Creme,
Altered Images,
Popol Vuh,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fugs,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moody Blues,
T. Rex,
Tommy Roe,
Swell Maps,
Youth Brigade,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Red Krayola,
Suicide,
The Gap Band,
Thompson Twins,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gories,
Lower 48,
Symarip,
Pharoah Sanders,
Oneida,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Piero Umiliani,
Sparks,
Funkadelic,
Deepchord,
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vainqueur,
The Selecter,
FM Einheit,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ossler,
Robert Hood,
Zero Boys,
The Trojans,
Das Ding,
Scott Walker,
Arab on Radar,
Erykah Badu,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scrapy,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.