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 Malta and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eve St. Jones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Audionom,
Technova,
The New Christs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
New Order,
Sixth Finger,
The Pop Group,
K-Klass,
Skarface,
T.S.O.L.,
The Motions,
Iggy Pop,
Royal Trux,
Goldenarms,
Piero Umiliani,
The Real Kids,
Index,
Clear Light,
Guru Guru,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Fugazi,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rapeman,
Section 25,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Letta Mbulu,
Flash Fearless,
Sight & Sound,
Liliput,
the Slits,
One Last Wish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Babytalk,
Slick Rick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Connie Case,
Sister Nancy,
David Bowie,
Donald Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Style,
Drexciya,
Dark Day,
Kerrie Biddell,
Niagra,
Peter and Kerry,
E-Dancer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lindisfarne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABC,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Moody Blues,
Pantytec,
The Neon Judgement,
Alton Ellis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.