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 Libya and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dorothy Ashby to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Nas,
Neil Young,
Reuben Wilson,
Blake Baxter,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
Spoonie Gee,
X-101,
Public Image Ltd.,
Harpers Bizarre,
Clear Light,
Cecil Taylor,
Bauhaus,
Gabor Szabo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pylon,
Japan,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
Lungfish,
Junior Murvin,
Barry Ungar,
Newcleus,
Simply Red,
Unrelated Segments,
the Sonics,
The Fugs,
Trumans Water,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
Black Sheep,
Albert Ayler,
Banda Bassotti,
David Bowie,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
The Gun Club,
Swans,
Tres Demented,
Radiopuhelimet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama,
Scan 7,
Flamin' Groovies,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Starr,
David Axelrod,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Moon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Smooth,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare,
Sound Behaviour,
Todd Terry,
the Normal,
Hasil Adkins,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.