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 Malawi and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Searchers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Ponytail,
Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Agent Orange,
Kerri Chandler,
the Slits,
Althea and Donna,
Minutemen,
Neil Young,
Funky Four + One,
Tropical Tobacco,
Banda Bassotti,
The Tremeloes,
Heaven 17,
Liliput,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stereo Dub,
Slave,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arab on Radar,
Guru Guru,
Dawn Penn,
Scientists,
Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Radio Birdman,
Circle Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sound Behaviour,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grey Daturas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sixth Finger,
Mission of Burma,
Idris Muhammad,
La Düsseldorf,
Symarip,
Nirvana,
The Associates,
Albert Ayler,
The Dave Clark Five,
Public Image Ltd.,
Second Layer,
The Moleskins,
Spoonie Gee,
Todd Terry,
Model 500,
The Residents,
Derrick Morgan,
The Monochrome Set,
Arthur Verocai,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Sonics,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.