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 Bangladesh and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Swans to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eric Copeland,
The Dirtbombs,
Yazoo,
The Last Poets,
Schoolly D,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Moon,
Gang Green,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
10cc,
Blossom Toes,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
Deakin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Negative Approach,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Intrusion,
Aswad,
Tim Buckley,
Fear,
Symarip,
Whodini,
Mary Jane Girls,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare,
Porter Ricks,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Depeche Mode,
Idris Muhammad,
The Raincoats,
The Blackbyrds,
Anakelly,
X-101,
Radiohead,
Wolf Eyes,
The Move,
F. McDonald,
Magma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fatback Band,
Bill Near,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chrome,
Peter & Gordon,
Ludus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
The Gap Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sparks,
Aloha Tigers,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.