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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Golliwogs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Kerri Chandler,
Zero Boys,
Fatback Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Public Enemy,
Scientists,
UT,
Pere Ubu,
The Cure,
Deadbeat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barbara Tucker,
Panda Bear,
ABC,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Thompson Twins,
X-Ray Spex,
Wolf Eyes,
Sam Rivers,
New Age Steppers,
Joy Division,
Mr. Review,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed,
Groovy Waters,
Warsaw,
The Index,
Rufus Thomas,
Deakin,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eli Mardock,
Qualms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dawn Penn,
The Remains,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Hashim,
Michelle Simonal,
The American Breed,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultra Naté,
World's Most,
Todd Terry,
Spandau Ballet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The United States of America,
Man Eating Sloth,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
Slave,
B.T. Express,
Joensuu 1685,
John Cale,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Severed Heads,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marvin Gaye,
Buzzcocks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.