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 Micronesia and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kerrie Biddell to the disco 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Maurizio,
The Blues Magoos,
Franke,
Black Sheep,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Can,
The Mojo Men,
Agent Orange,
Accadde A,
the Bar-Kays,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Aswad,
The Walker Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Donald Byrd,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Victims,
Zapp,
Hardrive,
Warren Ellis,
Al Stewart,
The Doors,
Camouflage,
Wally Richardson,
MC5,
Scion,
JFA,
B.T. Express,
Alton Ellis,
Pulsallama,
Eden Ahbez,
Jesper Dahlback,
This Heat,
Brass Construction,
Easy Going,
Lyres,
Jawbox,
DJ Style,
Dark Day,
Ken Boothe,
The American Breed,
Malaria!,
Todd Terry,
John Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Vladislav Delay,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Susan Cadogan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.