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 Russia and from Paris.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba 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 Animal Collective to the disco 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Outsiders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Qualms,
Wolf Eyes,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
KRS-One,
Unwound,
Urselle,
The Names,
Marmalade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Clarke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mad Mike,
Nick Fraelich,
Supertramp,
Nils Olav,
the Human League,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Max Romeo,
Matthew Bourne,
Guru Guru,
Lindisfarne,
Maurizio,
The Happenings,
Trumans Water,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
Glenn Branca,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
Pierre Henry,
Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
Fatback Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Dennis Brown,
Pylon,
The Mojo Men,
Amazonics,
Pagans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sugar Minott,
Archie Shepp,
Wally Richardson,
Bronski Beat,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roger Hodgson,
Saccharine Trust,
Kerrie Biddell,
Half Japanese,
Letta Mbulu,
Rekid,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.