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 Israel and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Hardrive,
Peter and Kerry,
Alice Coltrane,
Technova,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
Alphaville,
The Five Americans,
Donny Hathaway,
David McCallum,
A Certain Ratio,
The Saints,
The Motions,
The American Breed,
Shuggie Otis,
Amazonics,
Yellowson,
Altered Images,
The Grass Roots,
Oblivians,
F. McDonald,
48th St. Collective,
Fela Kuti,
Yazoo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Faust,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Howard Jones,
Brothers Johnson,
Das Ding,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Negative Approach,
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Bar-Kays,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rosa Yemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Echospace,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Glambeats Corp.,
Piero Umiliani,
Niagra,
Archie Shepp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Andrew Hill,
Barry Ungar,
Babytalk,
Slave,
The Fugs,
The Monochrome Set,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stetsasonic,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.