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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Mandrill,
Television Personalities,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Andrew Hill,
The Grass Roots,
Scrapy,
PIL,
Judy Mowatt,
Minor Threat,
L. Decosne,
Erykah Badu,
Henry Cow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Holt,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
Gang of Four,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gregory Isaacs,
OOIOO,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare,
Minny Pops,
Grey Daturas,
Alton Ellis,
U.S. Maple,
This Heat,
Public Enemy,
Erasure,
the Fania All-Stars,
Model 500,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Womack,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Sherman,
Crooked Eye,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Lungfish,
The Durutti Column,
Dark Day,
The Move,
K-Klass,
Roxette,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
FM Einheit,
The Moody Blues,
Bill Wells,
Amazonics,
Man Parrish,
Motorama,
Q and Not U,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
Yaz,
The Evens,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
China Crisis,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.