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 Jamaica and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe 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 the Slits to the crunk 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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Simply Red,
Wally Richardson,
E-Dancer,
Dennis Brown,
Lyres,
Radio Birdman,
John Cale,
Matthew Bourne,
Sugar Minott,
Unrelated Segments,
Desert Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eve St. Jones,
Basic Channel,
Neil Young,
Minny Pops,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Connie Case,
Minutemen,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pagans,
Moebius,
Underground Resistance,
Can,
New York Dolls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Unwound,
La Düsseldorf,
Curtis Mayfield,
Zero Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Ten City,
Dawn Penn,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lakeside,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bluetip,
Blossom Toes,
Oblivians,
Bush Tetras,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
The Kinks,
Technova,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hashim,
Joyce Sims,
Pantytec,
Gang Green,
Rites of Spring,
Spandau Ballet,
Oneida,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.