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 Montenegro and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Donald Fagen 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 Yazoo to the crunk 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Junior Murvin,
OOIOO,
James White and The Blacks,
Max Romeo,
The Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
The Birthday Party,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Idris Muhammad,
Surgeon,
The Standells,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tom Boy,
Maleditus Sound,
Lindisfarne,
Unwound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Royal Trux,
Young Marble Giants,
Dual Sessions,
John Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
LL Cool J,
New Order,
cv313,
Amon Düül,
Ornette Coleman,
the Association,
Panda Bear,
The Music Machine,
Funkadelic,
Banda Bassotti,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Starr,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echospace,
Procol Harum,
These Immortal Souls,
Y Pants,
The Smiths,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Monolake,
Talk Talk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David Axelrod,
Kas Product,
Rakim,
The Busters,
Suburban Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
Kenny Larkin,
The Last Poets,
Schoolly D,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.