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 Niger and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Crispian St. Peters to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Move,
Drexciya,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare,
Angry Samoans,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Audionom,
The Durutti Column,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood,
Ludus,
Tom Boy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Subhumans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Prunes,
Ornette Coleman,
FM Einheit,
Wally Richardson,
Aswad,
Yusef Lateef,
Arab on Radar,
Kayak,
Letta Mbulu,
Nik Kershaw,
The Busters,
Porter Ricks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lyres,
Talk Talk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Leaves,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
The Monks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
a-ha,
Derrick Morgan,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Hill,
Whodini,
Terrestrial Tones,
DNA,
the Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Interpol,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
Nirvana,
Camberwell Now,
Deadbeat,
Yellowson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.