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 Yemen and from Spokane.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Sarah Menescal to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
The Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Main Source,
Barclay James Harvest,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Prince Buster,
Aswad,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
Black Flag,
Radiohead,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lightning Bolt,
The Buckinghams,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
Joy Division,
The Offenders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bluetip,
Sun City Girls,
Ituana,
Eve St. Jones,
Second Layer,
Neil Young,
U.S. Maple,
Ice-T,
The Slackers,
Essential Logic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Clear Light,
John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Swans,
Brand Nubian,
Peter and Kerry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Negative Approach,
Anthony Braxton,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
ABBA,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harry Pussy,
Camouflage,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.