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 Guinea-Bissau and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
The Monks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
In Retrospect,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rufus Thomas,
Buzzcocks,
Lakeside,
Hoover,
Ronnie Foster,
The Residents,
Peter & Gordon,
Shoche,
Ossler,
The Dead C,
Delta 5,
Q65,
Severed Heads,
Althea and Donna,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Arcadia,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mad Mike,
Young Marble Giants,
Theoretical Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Sister Nancy,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chris Corsano,
Dark Day,
Faraquet,
Panda Bear,
Popol Vuh,
Fear,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Interpol,
The Skatalites,
The Pretty Things,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harmonia,
The Birthday Party,
Brick,
The Cure,
Amazonics,
Talk Talk,
Funky Four + One,
Fela Kuti,
Rapeman,
JFA,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Vainqueur,
Todd Rundgren,
Funkadelic,
Dual Sessions,
Matthew Bourne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Iggy Pop,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.