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 East Timor and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Suburban Knight to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Shoche,
The Martian,
Connie Case,
Toni Rubio,
Flipper,
Radio Birdman,
Simply Red,
Khruangbin,
Donald Byrd,
Sonic Youth,
Yazoo,
Pere Ubu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rotary Connection,
The Gories,
Gil Scott Heron,
David McCallum,
Nico,
Scion,
The Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
Ultravox,
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Music Machine,
Lindisfarne,
the Sonics,
Babytalk,
Gang Green,
Oneida,
Subhumans,
The Fuzztones,
Adolescents,
The Walker Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
The Zeros,
The Gladiators,
Public Enemy,
Delta 5,
The Sound,
Archie Shepp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Sheep,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minor Threat,
Symarip,
Kerri Chandler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minutemen,
The Skatalites,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare,
The Gun Club,
Zapp,
Wasted Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultra Naté,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.