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 Antigua and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nik Kershaw to the crunk 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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rites of Spring,
Eden Ahbez,
Slick Rick,
The Human League,
cv313,
Quadrant,
Pole,
Television Personalities,
EPMD,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerrie Biddell,
Shuggie Otis,
Charles Mingus,
Boredoms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wire,
Das Ding,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Near,
These Immortal Souls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Model 500,
Cal Tjader,
Japan,
Laurel Aitken,
Monks,
JFA,
Agent Orange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slackers,
Icehouse,
Ludus,
Derrick Morgan,
the Bar-Kays,
the Slits,
48th St. Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Rapeman,
The Pretty Things,
Ituana,
Pantaleimon,
Malaria!,
John Holt,
Josef K,
Ten City,
Deadbeat,
Gong,
Marmalade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Carl Craig,
Little Man,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scott Walker,
Connie Case,
Freddie Wadling,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Khruangbin,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.