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 Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
The Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
MDC,
Camouflage,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Parry Music,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Divine Comedy,
Radio Birdman,
Gong,
The Saints,
The Fall,
The Seeds,
Lou Reed,
The Velvet Underground,
Bob Dylan,
Alice Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Suicide,
Soul II Soul,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
Wasted Youth,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fugazi,
Swell Maps,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gories,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Josef K,
Henry Cow,
Pharoah Sanders,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Coltrane,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lalann,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minny Pops,
Nico,
The Toasters,
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Qualms,
Isaac Hayes,
The Remains,
Marvin Gaye,
Ronan,
Anakelly,
Dark Day,
The Doors,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Golliwogs,
Oneida,
Circle Jerks,
B.T. Express,
the Swans,
Drexciya,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.