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 Czech Republic and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 T. Rex to the jazz 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Henry Cow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
Pantaleimon,
Yaz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Silicon Teens,
Chris Corsano,
The Mummies,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
Popol Vuh,
Vainqueur,
Patti Smith,
Rod Modell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Organ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
The Durutti Column,
Alison Limerick,
DNA,
These Immortal Souls,
Panda Bear,
10cc,
China Crisis,
Boz Scaggs,
The Busters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
F. McDonald,
Rakim,
Skarface,
Matthew Bourne,
Arcadia,
Slave,
the Human League,
Fluxion,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash,
Judy Mowatt,
The Zeros,
Tres Demented,
Magazine,
The Barracudas,
Technova,
R.M.O.,
Niagra,
Moby Grape,
Echospace,
Goldenarms,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skaos,
Pharoah Sanders,
CMW,
The Gories,
Von Mondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bang On A Can,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.