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 Belgium and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Stiv Bators to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Brand Nubian,
Camberwell Now,
Ronan,
Whodini,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Trojans,
Rekid,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman,
Fela Kuti,
Skaos,
The United States of America,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Von Mondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yusef Lateef,
Swell Maps,
Adolescents,
Max Romeo,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Circle Jerks,
The Smoke,
Chrome,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Negative Approach,
The Saints,
Zero Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
LL Cool J,
Cameo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Surgeon,
The Blues Magoos,
Grauzone,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Siglo XX,
Theoretical Girls,
Royal Trux,
Fear,
Livin' Joy,
The Happenings,
Bootsy Collins,
Deadbeat,
The Cowsills,
T. Rex,
Television Personalities,
Aswad,
Model 500,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masters at Work,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.