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 United States and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Iggy Pop to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
the Human League,
Bill Near,
Kurtis Blow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Interpol,
The Five Americans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maurizio,
The Black Dice,
Zero Boys,
the Slits,
The Neon Judgement,
Sight & Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Don Cherry,
Japan,
Graham Central Station,
Spoonie Gee,
kango's stein massive,
Mars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
La Düsseldorf,
The Smoke,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bronski Beat,
Eric Copeland,
The Searchers,
Sparks,
The Last Poets,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Desert Stars,
Nas,
Dawn Penn,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lindisfarne,
Heaven 17,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Selecter,
Cecil Taylor,
The Knickerbockers,
The Wake,
Charles Mingus,
Mo-Dettes,
T.S.O.L.,
In Retrospect,
DJ Sneak,
Terry Callier,
Jeff Lynne,
Roxy Music,
KRS-One,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
Pole,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Womack,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quantec,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.