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 Italy and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare 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 Clear Light to the grime 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Guru Guru,
Idris Muhammad,
The Martian,
Lou Christie,
Siglo XX,
The Remains,
Porter Ricks,
Juan Atkins,
Masters at Work,
Von Mondo,
DJ Style,
Blossom Toes,
Minor Threat,
Scott Walker,
Chris & Cosey,
Motorama,
AZ,
Fela Kuti,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Icehouse,
Letta Mbulu,
Albert Ayler,
The Young Rascals,
F. McDonald,
The Stooges,
Parry Music,
The Raincoats,
The Misunderstood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eddi Front,
Lower 48,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sound Behaviour,
The Durutti Column,
Cheater Slicks,
Kerri Chandler,
Yazoo,
Josef K,
Rakim,
The Wake,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Dolphy,
The Searchers,
Sex Pistols,
Alton Ellis,
PIL,
Thompson Twins,
Tim Buckley,
Underground Resistance,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mojo Men,
Vainqueur,
The New Christs,
Mo-Dettes,
Silicon Teens,
The Slackers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bad Manners,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.