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 Panama and from Stockholm.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mr. Review to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
The Walker Brothers,
Lyres,
X-102,
Gang Green,
The New Christs,
The Zeros,
Dorothy Ashby,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacob Miller,
Graham Central Station,
Grandmaster Flash,
Unwound,
Ohio Players,
Joyce Sims,
Alice Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Rekid,
Mantronix,
Silicon Teens,
Vainqueur,
Fugazi,
Peter & Gordon,
Pussy Galore,
Erykah Badu,
Excepter,
Minutemen,
The Invisible,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
kango's stein massive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Freddie Wadling,
Adolescents,
ABBA,
Lightning Bolt,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Index,
the Swans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Moleskins,
Bush Tetras,
The Last Poets,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monochrome Set,
Brothers Johnson,
David McCallum,
The Beau Brummels,
48th St. Collective,
Nico,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
Hoover,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sandy B,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.