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 Ethiopia and from Taipei.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 Model 500 to the jazz 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Radiohead,
Rotary Connection,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pierre Henry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gichy Dan,
Electric Prunes,
Nirvana,
The Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
Procol Harum,
Niagra,
Kevin Saunderson,
Newcleus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fatback Band,
Severed Heads,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moleskins,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
ABBA,
John Holt,
The Monks,
Fela Kuti,
The Selecter,
Tim Buckley,
Skriet,
The Angels of Light,
Livin' Joy,
Angry Samoans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eric Copeland,
World's Most,
Crooked Eye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
Barbara Tucker,
Charles Mingus,
Fear,
Todd Terry,
Shoche,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Byrd,
Crash Course in Science,
D'Angelo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gap Band,
Jawbox,
Reuben Wilson,
Scientists,
Janne Schatter,
Barry Ungar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Womack,
Marvin Gaye,
Outsiders,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dead Boys,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.