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 Macedonia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barclay James Harvest to the rap 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Morten Harket,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grauzone,
The Tremeloes,
Harmonia,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
The Walker Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Copeland,
Eurythmics,
OOIOO,
Blancmange,
Siglo XX,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cluster,
Kerri Chandler,
Byron Stingily,
The Invisible,
Matthew Halsall,
Vladislav Delay,
Funky Four + One,
Flash Fearless,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deepchord,
The Blackbyrds,
Joyce Sims,
Marmalade,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Happenings,
Juan Atkins,
Groovy Waters,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Jacob Miller,
The Skatalites,
World's Most,
Brick,
Peter & Gordon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Standells,
Crime,
The Litter,
Con Funk Shun,
Wire,
Piero Umiliani,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.