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 Guyana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Freddie Wadling to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül II,
Q65,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fall,
Gang Starr,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Pus,
The Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Ludus,
Technova,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Flag,
Scientists,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yazoo,
The Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
Juan Atkins,
A Certain Ratio,
F. McDonald,
Bad Manners,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
UT,
New York Dolls,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tim Buckley,
Delta 5,
Hot Snakes,
Radiohead,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tomorrow,
The Buckinghams,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Cell,
Brass Construction,
Intrusion,
Fugazi,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rufus Thomas,
Avey Tare,
Rites of Spring,
The Cramps,
Scrapy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Matthew Halsall,
Rosa Yemen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Leonard Cohen,
The Modern Lovers,
Cameo,
the Slits,
Faust,
H. Thieme,
Yellowson,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.