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 Laos and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Golliwogs,
Lakeside,
Ituana,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June Days,
Soft Cell,
The Shadows of Knight,
cv313,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Rakim,
Organ,
Bill Wells,
The Angels of Light,
Arcadia,
Darondo,
The J.B.'s,
The Dirtbombs,
Janne Schatter,
Laurel Aitken,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hardrive,
Cal Tjader,
Visage,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Reed,
The Durutti Column,
Nico,
Altered Images,
Motorama,
Isaac Hayes,
The Sonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Camberwell Now,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aloha Tigers,
Rapeman,
Deakin,
Qualms,
Hashim,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers,
Aswad,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
Lalann,
Agitation Free,
Supertramp,
China Crisis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Womack,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.