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 Botswana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Eli Mardock,
The Dead C,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
Cheater Slicks,
Wings,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
Jimmy McGriff,
Michelle Simonal,
Television,
Negative Approach,
F. McDonald,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brass Construction,
The Sonics,
DJ Style,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Associates,
Franke,
The Five Americans,
Buzzcocks,
Panda Bear,
The Angels of Light,
The Saints,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-Ray Spex,
Liliput,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gichy Dan,
Technova,
Rosa Yemen,
Idris Muhammad,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
The Cramps,
Iggy Pop,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Average White Band,
The Red Krayola,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monochrome Set,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lakeside,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Grey Daturas,
K-Klass,
Peter & Gordon,
cv313,
Monolake,
Thee Headcoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Delon & Dalcan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lee Hazlewood,
Babytalk,
The Mummies,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.