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 New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the punk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Index,
The Zeros,
Reagan Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Almond,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Warsaw,
Mission of Burma,
Quadrant,
Joensuu 1685,
UT,
Boogie Down Productions,
Henry Cow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Finger,
Graham Central Station,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare,
Malaria!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gastr Del Sol,
Junior Murvin,
Lyres,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roger Hodgson,
The Raincoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Sun City Girls,
Visage,
Matthew Halsall,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Goldenarms,
Sixth Finger,
The Cure,
The Slackers,
The Doors,
Traffic Nightmare,
L. Decosne,
Rakim,
Shoche,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Massinfluence,
Franke,
These Immortal Souls,
Crime,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fatback Band,
New Order,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
Groovy Waters,
Tom Boy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Absolute Body Control,
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.