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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sexual Harrassment to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a clarinet 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 snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alton Ellis,
Patti Smith,
Max Romeo,
Soft Machine,
The Black Dice,
The Birthday Party,
Ken Boothe,
Iggy Pop,
Mars,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Moon,
Inner City,
Slave,
The Red Krayola,
The Knickerbockers,
Pierre Henry,
Kenny Larkin,
The Happenings,
Ponytail,
Grauzone,
Blancmange,
The Smiths,
Fluxion,
Goldenarms,
Black Sheep,
The Slackers,
the Swans,
Minny Pops,
The Real Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Walker Brothers,
Harmonia,
New York Dolls,
Moss Icon,
Duran Duran,
Reuben Wilson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Monks,
Amazonics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boz Scaggs,
Quadrant,
Zero Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Stooges,
Yazoo,
Gang of Four,
Mark Hollis,
Black Flag,
Nirvana,
Cluster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Audionom,
The Remains,
Yellowson,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.