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 Madagascar and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Cheater Slicks,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
Al Stewart,
Kaleidoscope,
Stetsasonic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Panda Bear,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Little Man,
Max Romeo,
Jawbox,
June Days,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Style,
Vainqueur,
The Mojo Men,
The Dirtbombs,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Porter Ricks,
Simply Red,
Spandau Ballet,
Pylon,
Barbara Tucker,
Talk Talk,
the Human League,
Ornette Coleman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
One Last Wish,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-Ray Spex,
Dawn Penn,
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eddi Front,
Outsiders,
The Index,
FM Einheit,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ice-T,
Howard Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythm & Sound,
ABBA,
Skaos,
Albert Ayler,
Stiv Bators,
Eden Ahbez,
John Cale,
the Germs,
R.M.O.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Erykah Badu,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
The Slackers,
Scrapy,
Tears for Fears,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.