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 Mauritania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Lou Christie to the dance 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-102,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Coltrane,
The Modern Lovers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June of 44,
Hardrive,
John Cale,
The Fugs,
Gong,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Zeros,
Nas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Unwound,
The Slackers,
Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bronski Beat,
Charles Mingus,
Accadde A,
Japan,
The Evens,
Max Romeo,
Yusef Lateef,
Cheater Slicks,
Sex Pistols,
Sister Nancy,
Donny Hathaway,
New Order,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Style,
Tomorrow,
Basic Channel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
Archie Shepp,
Pierre Henry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Starr,
Lakeside,
Babytalk,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wings,
Rites of Spring,
The Dead C,
Newcleus,
Hoover,
Reagan Youth,
Eli Mardock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Henry Cow,
David McCallum,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fall,
Jeff Mills,
Barbara Tucker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.