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 Bhutan and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Cal Tjader to the rap 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rod Modell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Whodini,
The Litter,
Yaz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Oneida,
Bang On A Can,
Brick,
the Soft Cell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Con Funk Shun,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
John Holt,
Davy DMX,
Symarip,
Hoover,
The Leaves,
This Heat,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Section 25,
Harmonia,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Arab on Radar,
Q65,
the Slits,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Sheep,
T. Rex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Desert Stars,
Heaven 17,
Black Pus,
Interpol,
Lakeside,
Sam Rivers,
Eli Mardock,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Sherman,
The Birthday Party,
Can,
The Techniques,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sex Pistols,
Lungfish,
Outsiders,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Byrd,
X-102,
Kayak,
Dennis Brown,
Wolf Eyes,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cal Tjader,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.