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 Austria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the crunk 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits 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?
Slave,
H. Thieme,
Sparks,
Cameo,
Yaz,
The Fuzztones,
Matthew Bourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mad Mike,
Robert Wyatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dead C,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Bang On A Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cheater Slicks,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare,
Rosa Yemen,
Royal Trux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fire Engines,
June Days,
Soul II Soul,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gichy Dan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wolf Eyes,
The Zeros,
Moss Icon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Starr,
MDC,
Pulsallama,
K-Klass,
Ronnie Foster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joensuu 1685,
The United States of America,
the Germs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Suburban Knight,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Techniques,
Pierre Henry,
Althea and Donna,
Isaac Hayes,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Copeland,
Lindisfarne,
Crime,
Country Teasers,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.