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 Liberia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 rhodes 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 Sonic Youth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Fat Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kerri Chandler,
The Divine Comedy,
The Birthday Party,
Desert Stars,
The Golliwogs,
Slave,
Nico,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
Mr. Review,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
T. Rex,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Techniques,
Kurtis Blow,
June of 44,
Funky Four + One,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Severed Heads,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott Heron,
Josef K,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soul II Soul,
Yusef Lateef,
Fatback Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Juan Atkins,
Nirvana,
Grandmaster Flash,
Anthony Braxton,
Wings,
Cybotron,
PIL,
Kool Moe Dee,
Electric Prunes,
Royal Trux,
Black Sheep,
The Stooges,
Rufus Thomas,
The Count Five,
Derrick May,
The Human League,
UT,
E-Dancer,
Ronan,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
The Cramps,
Barbara Tucker,
Barry Ungar,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maleditus Sound,
Swell Maps,
Fluxion,
Eurythmics,
Oblivians,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.