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 East Timor 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 Radio Birdman to the grime 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Amon Düül,
Quadrant,
Metal Thangz,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Residents,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nico,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aural Exciters,
Kayak,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Panda Bear,
The Golliwogs,
Gang of Four,
Rekid,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echospace,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fatback Band,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
UT,
Gang Green,
Alison Limerick,
The Sonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zero Boys,
Das Ding,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harmonia,
The Sound,
The Mojo Men,
Chris & Cosey,
Brick,
Tim Buckley,
Agent Orange,
Boredoms,
Ultravox,
Bobby Sherman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Altered Images,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camouflage,
Patti Smith,
the Slits,
Black Moon,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
Deepchord,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stetsasonic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.