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 Malaysia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Womack to the grime 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
Moebius,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dead Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
Outsiders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Anthony Braxton,
The Buckinghams,
Fat Boys,
Jacques Brel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moss Icon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Khruangbin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric Dolphy,
Babytalk,
Youth Brigade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Starr,
Peter and Kerry,
Isaac Hayes,
The Busters,
Duran Duran,
The Durutti Column,
Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Tom Boy,
The Moleskins,
Sun City Girls,
Q65,
Sex Pistols,
Lyres,
China Crisis,
Pagans,
Malaria!,
Judy Mowatt,
Laurel Aitken,
the Normal,
Robert Wyatt,
The Pretty Things,
X-Ray Spex,
Newcleus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
T.S.O.L.,
Television,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dawn Penn,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wally Richardson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.