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 China and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Judy Mowatt to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Tommy Roe,
New York Dolls,
Ten City,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Style,
Jawbox,
Reagan Youth,
The Sound,
R.M.O.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kas Product,
The Doors,
Yusef Lateef,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Pretty Things,
Nils Olav,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sam Rivers,
Depeche Mode,
Barry Ungar,
U.S. Maple,
ABBA,
Lakeside,
Popol Vuh,
Supertramp,
Q65,
Skriet,
Wolf Eyes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barrington Levy,
Lyres,
Accadde A,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ice-T,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Schoolly D,
Pussy Galore,
The Five Americans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Warsaw,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fatback Band,
D'Angelo,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Lynne,
Buzzcocks,
Robert Wyatt,
UT,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Enemy,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.