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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rap 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cowsills,
Ken Boothe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tres Demented,
Harry Pussy,
The Birthday Party,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lungfish,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marine Girls,
Pole,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker,
Rod Modell,
Jacob Miller,
Stockholm Monsters,
Essential Logic,
Crash Course in Science,
the Slits,
Sexual Harrassment,
E-Dancer,
June of 44,
Anakelly,
Yellowson,
Aswad,
Tommy Roe,
Young Marble Giants,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
Negative Approach,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blackbyrds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Hill,
The Stooges,
Simply Red,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Drexciya,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bob Dylan,
The Slackers,
Bush Tetras,
Siglo XX,
Ronan,
Man Parrish,
Infiniti,
Sparks,
Outsiders,
the Sonics,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.