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 Bahrain and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
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 808 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 R.M.O. to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Anthony Braxton,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Smiths,
The Raincoats,
Accadde A,
Crispian St. Peters,
Organ,
Excepter,
Siglo XX,
Albert Ayler,
Ossler,
OOIOO,
Fear,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rapeman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Can,
Magazine,
Qualms,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
The Count Five,
Neil Young,
H. Thieme,
L. Decosne,
Tommy Roe,
Warren Ellis,
Kurtis Blow,
Eden Ahbez,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
Liliput,
Nico,
Unwound,
Laurel Aitken,
Cymande,
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
The Litter,
Henry Cow,
The Shadows of Knight,
EPMD,
Man Parrish,
Porter Ricks,
Metal Thangz,
Panda Bear,
Mars,
Technova,
The Real Kids,
Donald Byrd,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bronski Beat,
Fat Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Heaven 17,
Junior Murvin,
Barbara Tucker,
Babytalk,
Ultravox,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.