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 Burkina and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jerry Gold Smith 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Warren Ellis,
Wolf Eyes,
Quando Quango,
Spoonie Gee,
Amon Düül II,
Simply Red,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bad Manners,
La Düsseldorf,
Glambeats Corp.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Motions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sight & Sound,
Ronan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Flag,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Easy Going,
Mo-Dettes,
Fat Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Near,
Model 500,
Con Funk Shun,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Cale,
T. Rex,
Silicon Teens,
The Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Alice Coltrane,
John Holt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blossom Toes,
Sam Rivers,
Moby Grape,
Ohio Players,
The Flesh Eaters,
Spandau Ballet,
The American Breed,
Henry Cow,
Sandy B,
Absolute Body Control,
The Victims,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Velvet Underground,
Jawbox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Zeros,
Maurizio,
Junior Murvin,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Index,
Mandrill,
Average White Band,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.