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 Ireland and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pole to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
The Toasters,
Pagans,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Sherman,
Graham Central Station,
Eli Mardock,
Faraquet,
the Bar-Kays,
Icehouse,
Second Layer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Qualms,
Flash Fearless,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Selecter,
The United States of America,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Janne Schatter,
Suicide,
Jacques Brel,
The Electric Prunes,
Joensuu 1685,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Move,
Public Enemy,
Nico,
Suburban Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amazonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sällskapet,
FM Einheit,
Curtis Mayfield,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dead Boys,
The Cure,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang of Four,
The Gap Band,
John Foxx,
Dark Day,
Pantytec,
Slick Rick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
Amon Düül II,
Minnie Riperton,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.