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 San Marino and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Monks to the electroclash 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Wings,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shoche,
Cybotron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fatback Band,
The Last Poets,
The Durutti Column,
The Cure,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare,
Arab on Radar,
John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sixth Finger,
Panda Bear,
Colin Newman,
Carl Craig,
Anakelly,
X-102,
Skriet,
The Busters,
Roger Hodgson,
Los Fastidios,
Icehouse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jandek,
Soul II Soul,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David Axelrod,
Index,
Blancmange,
kango's stein massive,
Byron Stingily,
Hasil Adkins,
John Lydon,
Hardrive,
Guru Guru,
Youth Brigade,
Scientists,
Lou Christie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
Flamin' Groovies,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mummies,
Gichy Dan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Franke,
The Saints,
Sun City Girls,
Siglo XX,
Theoretical Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Minny Pops,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.