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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Busters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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?
Panda Bear,
CMW,
Alison Limerick,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Porter Ricks,
D'Angelo,
Barrington Levy,
Bauhaus,
Royal Trux,
Television,
Nico,
the Slits,
The Gladiators,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Byron Stingily,
Stiv Bators,
The Invisible,
Iggy Pop,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra,
Yaz,
Pierre Henry,
Joe Smooth,
The Cure,
Average White Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ohio Players,
John Coltrane,
Maurizio,
The Neon Judgement,
Mandrill,
Albert Ayler,
The Searchers,
Laurel Aitken,
Niagra,
Monks,
Yellowson,
Althea and Donna,
The Red Krayola,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barbara Tucker,
Lightning Bolt,
the Soft Cell,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty,
The New Christs,
the Association,
Chrome,
Pagans,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Star Department,
Sällskapet,
Radio Birdman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.