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 Taiwan 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Last Poets to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Negative Approach,
Motorama,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nik Kershaw,
Grandmaster Flash,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang of Four,
Ludus,
Idris Muhammad,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Average White Band,
Scion,
Rites of Spring,
Man Parrish,
The Pop Group,
Skarface,
Crash Course in Science,
DJ Style,
David Axelrod,
Robert Görl,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Toasters,
Harry Pussy,
Oneida,
Visage,
T. Rex,
MC5,
Tres Demented,
Television,
The Names,
Arcadia,
Delta 5,
Matthew Bourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Sarah Menescal,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Banda Bassotti,
Fear,
Kurtis Blow,
Cymande,
Technova,
Nas,
Scratch Acid,
Lyres,
Masters at Work,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Silicon Teens,
X-101,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gabor Szabo,
Angry Samoans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.