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 Bolivia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Lakeside 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Simply Red,
Kaleidoscope,
Boz Scaggs,
Connie Case,
Carl Craig,
The Doors,
La Düsseldorf,
Trumans Water,
Beasts of Bourbon,
K-Klass,
U.S. Maple,
Joey Negro,
The Pretty Things,
Panda Bear,
Josef K,
Mark Hollis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Christie,
Fat Boys,
Grauzone,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Thee Headcoats,
Scan 7,
the Bar-Kays,
The Zeros,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thompson Twins,
the Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
Ludus,
The Gun Club,
The Index,
Blossom Toes,
Grey Daturas,
The Fuzztones,
Banda Bassotti,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Hot Snakes,
Section 25,
Easy Going,
Nation of Ulysses,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
The Gories,
Sonic Youth,
The Barracudas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sonics,
Icehouse,
Bauhaus,
H. Thieme,
Althea and Donna,
Vladislav Delay,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Can,
Arab on Radar,
Nirvana,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.