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 East Timor and from Manchester.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 X-101 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ice-T,
Ten City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
PIL,
Minutemen,
Matthew Bourne,
the Bar-Kays,
Arab on Radar,
Minnie Riperton,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Leaves,
MDC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Japan,
Little Man,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sandy B,
June of 44,
The Litter,
Moebius,
Kayak,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mr. Review,
Lyres,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Jacques Brel,
the Normal,
Trumans Water,
The Names,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Martian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The New Christs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Goldenarms,
B.T. Express,
Todd Rundgren,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Michelle Simonal,
Mars,
Guru Guru,
Joyce Sims,
Saccharine Trust,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
JFA,
Althea and Donna,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aural Exciters,
Visage,
Nirvana,
Scan 7,
EPMD,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.