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 Armenia and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Icehouse,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Standells,
The Barracudas,
Lebanon Hanover,
a-ha,
Bush Tetras,
Ossler,
John Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gregory Isaacs,
New Age Steppers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Misunderstood,
Joey Negro,
Todd Terry,
Cybotron,
Sister Nancy,
Faraquet,
The Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Max Romeo,
kango's stein massive,
Blossom Toes,
Average White Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Slits,
Massinfluence,
Camberwell Now,
Joy Division,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Section 25,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Loose Ends,
Duran Duran,
Bluetip,
Bang On A Can,
Henry Cow,
Main Source,
Mary Jane Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crooked Eye,
The Black Dice,
Suicide,
Minnie Riperton,
Deakin,
Hoover,
Judy Mowatt,
Unrelated Segments,
Sexual Harrassment,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.