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 Namibia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 Al Stewart to the grunge 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Roxy Music,
The Fire Engines,
Sun Ra,
Lakeside,
The Sonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Josef K,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Tremeloes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
Surgeon,
Gang Green,
Tommy Roe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jawbox,
Monolake,
Lou Christie,
Maleditus Sound,
Moss Icon,
The Black Dice,
The Gap Band,
Stereo Dub,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Severed Heads,
The Happenings,
Godley & Creme,
Tubeway Army,
DJ Sneak,
Nirvana,
Organ,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Whodini,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Flag,
Don Cherry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Echospace,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlback,
48th St. Collective,
The Doobie Brothers,
Agitation Free,
Sparks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Swans,
The Trojans,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.