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 Venezuela and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron 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 The Standells to the funk 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Lungfish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Rekid,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
The Grass Roots,
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn,
Eli Mardock,
Motorama,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dead C,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Vainqueur,
the Swans,
Das Ding,
The Residents,
Khruangbin,
Crooked Eye,
Blake Baxter,
David McCallum,
Max Romeo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Golliwogs,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fortunes,
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Royal Trux,
New Age Steppers,
The Misunderstood,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick May,
Franke,
Eden Ahbez,
Kerrie Biddell,
The New Christs,
Fela Kuti,
Masters at Work,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Buzzcocks,
Scratch Acid,
Accadde A,
Urselle,
Lakeside,
Amazonics,
Eric Dolphy,
Faust,
Severed Heads,
This Heat,
Archie Shepp,
Essential Logic,
CMW,
Little Man,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.