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 Kyrgyzstan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 The Last Poets to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Angry Samoans,
Brass Construction,
Flipper,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cybotron,
The Walker Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radio Birdman,
Wally Richardson,
Sparks,
Sugar Minott,
FM Einheit,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Howard Jones,
R.M.O.,
Mark Hollis,
Oblivians,
Magazine,
Josef K,
The Cramps,
EPMD,
These Immortal Souls,
Sandy B,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Sherman,
Absolute Body Control,
Cheater Slicks,
Pantytec,
Parry Music,
Panda Bear,
Schoolly D,
Guru Guru,
The Birthday Party,
Prince Buster,
Pet Shop Boys,
Quando Quango,
Althea and Donna,
Q65,
The Mummies,
Joe Smooth,
Pylon,
Lakeside,
The Sonics,
Das Ding,
Porter Ricks,
The Moleskins,
The Mojo Men,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arcadia,
The Searchers,
Neu!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jandek,
Maleditus Sound,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.