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 Kazakhstan and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Boz Scaggs to the crunk 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Mandrill,
Pagans,
Nas,
Swell Maps,
Cluster,
The Blackbyrds,
Fela Kuti,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camberwell Now,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Bourne,
Faraquet,
The Wake,
Magazine,
Pussy Galore,
MDC,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Archie Shepp,
Susan Cadogan,
Lalann,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Heaven 17,
Alphaville,
Sandy B,
Reagan Youth,
Arcadia,
The Neon Judgement,
Kerri Chandler,
The Music Machine,
Scan 7,
Brick,
Severed Heads,
The Red Krayola,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
Liliput,
Ossler,
The Birthday Party,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scott Walker,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neu!,
The Fortunes,
Pylon,
The Five Americans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
The Evens,
Idris Muhammad,
Suburban Knight,
Yellowson,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.