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 South Sudan and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Piero Umiliani to the grime 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marine Girls,
Jawbox,
Slave,
F. McDonald,
Groovy Waters,
The Kinks,
The Index,
Smog,
The Searchers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cecil Taylor,
Cluster,
Soul Sonic Force,
Porter Ricks,
In Retrospect,
Lalann,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Darondo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rotary Connection,
Von Mondo,
Bauhaus,
Oneida,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra,
FM Einheit,
The Names,
Essential Logic,
Janne Schatter,
EPMD,
Model 500,
Isaac Hayes,
Robert Hood,
The Buckinghams,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eve St. Jones,
The Tremeloes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soft Machine,
Pere Ubu,
Ronan,
Skarface,
Amazonics,
Wasted Youth,
Half Japanese,
Schoolly D,
Black Pus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Junior Murvin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Simply Red,
New Order,
A Certain Ratio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harpers Bizarre,
Glenn Branca,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.