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 Poland 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 Hasil Adkins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
June Days,
Sarah Menescal,
Trumans Water,
Gichy Dan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tim Buckley,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
Scott Walker,
Danielle Patucci,
Severed Heads,
Alton Ellis,
Albert Ayler,
Lindisfarne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Sherman,
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
Make Up,
Crooked Eye,
Ultravox,
Bad Manners,
Piero Umiliani,
Livin' Joy,
ABBA,
Sun Ra,
The Durutti Column,
ABC,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Magazine,
Lyres,
F. McDonald,
Amon Düül II,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Animal Collective,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fire Engines,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Buzzcocks,
Outsiders,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
Nik Kershaw,
Television Personalities,
Black Flag,
B.T. Express,
Urselle,
the Slits,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Japan,
The Victims,
A Certain Ratio,
Suburban Knight,
Circle Jerks,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.