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 Switzerland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 These Immortal Souls 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric Dolphy,
Pagans,
Derrick May,
Mark Hollis,
The Knickerbockers,
Toni Rubio,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Kinks,
Interpol,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
Althea and Donna,
Niagra,
Ossler,
Wally Richardson,
Stiv Bators,
Donald Byrd,
Flipper,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
Matthew Bourne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hardrive,
Agent Orange,
Scientists,
Danielle Patucci,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sonics,
Rotary Connection,
Smog,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mad Mike,
The Barracudas,
The Names,
The Cowsills,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Electric Prunes,
Isaac Hayes,
Monolake,
the Bar-Kays,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Vainqueur,
Nik Kershaw,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Normal,
Kas Product,
Bauhaus,
Minnie Riperton,
Chris Corsano,
Delta 5,
Siglo XX,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.