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 Algeria and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
The Electric Prunes,
The Wake,
In Retrospect,
Danielle Patucci,
Pierre Henry,
The Smoke,
Suburban Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stereo Dub,
Lee Hazlewood,
Byron Stingily,
Black Moon,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Y Pants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Neon Judgement,
Scratch Acid,
Pole,
Vainqueur,
Yazoo,
Roy Ayers,
The Misunderstood,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
ABC,
Nick Fraelich,
Crash Course in Science,
Eden Ahbez,
Section 25,
Bobby Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Anthony Braxton,
Second Layer,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bauhaus,
Sällskapet,
Pussy Galore,
Brand Nubian,
Warren Ellis,
the Germs,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
Al Stewart,
Howard Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-101,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry's Kids,
Whodini,
The Standells,
Tubeway Army,
The Martian,
Ken Boothe,
L. Decosne,
Brothers Johnson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hardrive,
Ossler,
Bill Wells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.