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 Cameroon and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Delta 5 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delon & Dalcan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
The American Breed,
Max Romeo,
Das Ding,
The Techniques,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
F. McDonald,
Eric Copeland,
Rites of Spring,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cheater Slicks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Royal Trux,
EPMD,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Offenders,
The Mummies,
Moebius,
Harmonia,
Hot Snakes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Subhumans,
DJ Sneak,
Stiv Bators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Audionom,
Parry Music,
Unwound,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Radio Birdman,
Darondo,
Connie Case,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fear,
Johnny Clarke,
B.T. Express,
The Doobie Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arab on Radar,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Graham Central Station,
La Düsseldorf,
Eve St. Jones,
Hasil Adkins,
The Standells,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.