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 Nicaragua and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
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 güiro 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 Brass Construction to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Kerri Chandler,
John Coltrane,
Monolake,
Dual Sessions,
Mandrill,
Jeff Mills,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mojo Men,
Barbara Tucker,
The Angels of Light,
Pussy Galore,
Piero Umiliani,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
R.M.O.,
Lightning Bolt,
Jandek,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
Aural Exciters,
Colin Newman,
The Residents,
The Human League,
Scan 7,
a-ha,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Section 25,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fear,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Neil Young,
Sugar Minott,
Sex Pistols,
Grey Daturas,
Sister Nancy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marshall Jefferson,
ABBA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Offenders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moss Icon,
Lou Christie,
Japan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Red Krayola,
The Barracudas,
Severed Heads,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.