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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Donald Byrd to the punk 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Lakeside,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marshall Jefferson,
Negative Approach,
X-Ray Spex,
Donald Byrd,
Procol Harum,
Intrusion,
Quantec,
Alison Limerick,
Yazoo,
Gong,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ronan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
La Düsseldorf,
Roy Ayers,
Amon Düül,
Alice Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dead C,
Glenn Branca,
The Martian,
Cymande,
Soul II Soul,
Marcia Griffiths,
Vainqueur,
The Invisible,
The Walker Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Wells,
AZ,
Niagra,
These Immortal Souls,
Neu!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
Cameo,
Eve St. Jones,
Sugar Minott,
Chrome,
Joy Division,
Audionom,
Reagan Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fluxion,
Hoover,
Brass Construction,
Roxy Music,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Malaria!,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fall,
Suicide,
Scott Walker,
Rekid,
New Order,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.