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 Mauritius and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Parry Music to the crunk 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
The Buckinghams,
Suicide,
Jeff Mills,
Monolake,
T.S.O.L.,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Pus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
FM Einheit,
OOIOO,
Ornette Coleman,
Soulsonic Force,
Model 500,
Crispy Ambulance,
Patti Smith,
Sex Pistols,
the Sonics,
Howard Jones,
Babytalk,
DJ Sneak,
Althea and Donna,
Marine Girls,
JFA,
Colin Newman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barrington Levy,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
The Skatalites,
Yaz,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Knickerbockers,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Eddi Front,
PIL,
Toni Rubio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Unwound,
Fugazi,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nik Kershaw,
Alice Coltrane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Red Krayola,
Index,
Kevin Saunderson,
Susan Cadogan,
Unrelated Segments,
Mr. Review,
The Associates,
Fat Boys,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
Marmalade,
Theoretical Girls,
the Swans,
Duran Duran,
The Happenings,
Public Image Ltd.,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.