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 Burkina and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
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 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 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 Tubeway Army to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Tears for Fears,
The Raincoats,
Los Fastidios,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Henry Cow,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eve St. Jones,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gladiators,
Drexciya,
Bang On A Can,
Prince Buster,
a-ha,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Sherman,
Zero Boys,
Severed Heads,
Scan 7,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Remains,
John Cale,
Motorama,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Görl,
Sight & Sound,
Skaos,
The Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Warsaw,
Y Pants,
Yaz,
Rod Modell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bronski Beat,
Joey Negro,
The Kinks,
James White and The Blacks,
Theoretical Girls,
U.S. Maple,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Archie Shepp,
X-101,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Nirvana,
Pere Ubu,
Black Pus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Soft Cell,
Public Enemy,
Khruangbin,
The Smiths,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.