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 Lithuania and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Goldenarms to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Iggy Pop,
Franke,
the Germs,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moody Blues,
The Velvet Underground,
Morten Harket,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Freddie Wadling,
Kenny Larkin,
EPMD,
The Names,
Scratch Acid,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joe Finger,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slackers,
Rites of Spring,
Hashim,
Funky Four + One,
The Grass Roots,
Outsiders,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Dolphy,
Skriet,
The Martian,
Public Enemy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Sherman,
The Five Americans,
Brass Construction,
X-Ray Spex,
Radio Birdman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vainqueur,
Interpol,
DNA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fall,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monks,
Robert Hood,
Symarip,
The Saints,
Minnie Riperton,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter and Kerry,
Cluster,
The Divine Comedy,
L. Decosne,
Brick,
Albert Ayler,
Ohio Players,
The Litter,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fuzztones,
Can,
The Tremeloes,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.