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 Djibouti and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker 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 grunge 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flash Fearless,
Alphaville,
Black Pus,
Slick Rick,
Janne Schatter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Faraquet,
June Days,
Parry Music,
Bobby Byrd,
Mandrill,
Malaria!,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fugs,
Adolescents,
Radiohead,
Mantronix,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Connie Case,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Zero Boys,
The Standells,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Womack,
The Litter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood,
Rekid,
Khruangbin,
China Crisis,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Raincoats,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Offenders,
Easy Going,
Lakeside,
Youth Brigade,
Ronan,
Sixth Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dave Gahan,
The Dirtbombs,
Warsaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blossom Toes,
Minor Threat,
Little Man,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
Johnny Clarke,
Erasure,
Pere Ubu,
Y Pants,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.