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 Slovakia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes 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 Aloha Tigers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kaleidoscope,
The Buckinghams,
Suburban Knight,
The Tremeloes,
Barrington Levy,
Aaron Thompson,
The Mojo Men,
Half Japanese,
Crooked Eye,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Supertramp,
Mars,
Sparks,
Avey Tare,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Sherman,
Q65,
Connie Case,
Cal Tjader,
R.M.O.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sex Pistols,
The Motions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Skriet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Index,
Michelle Simonal,
MDC,
Make Up,
The Happenings,
Suicide,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Von Mondo,
Can,
Monolake,
Cymande,
Rekid,
8 Eyed Spy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
FM Einheit,
The Stooges,
Matthew Bourne,
Minor Threat,
Pierre Henry,
John Coltrane,
The Cowsills,
The Slits,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
Lindisfarne,
Urselle,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Kayak,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.