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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dead C,
In Retrospect,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
Angry Samoans,
Quando Quango,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
Easy Going,
Mr. Review,
Blossom Toes,
Flash Fearless,
Leonard Cohen,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Magazine,
Organ,
Pantaleimon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fire Engines,
Visage,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mark Hollis,
Echospace,
New York Dolls,
Popol Vuh,
John Foxx,
48th St. Collective,
Dawn Penn,
Jawbox,
Scion,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Fugazi,
The Trojans,
Althea and Donna,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Faust,
Drexciya,
Chrome,
Prince Buster,
Eden Ahbez,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
Lakeside,
Tomorrow,
The Neon Judgement,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Q and Not U,
Erasure,
The Blues Magoos,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.