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 Egypt and from Tokyo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Smiths to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
Echospace,
the Association,
Black Pus,
The Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lower 48,
Swans,
Malaria!,
Blossom Toes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ornette Coleman,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Icehouse,
David Bowie,
Bob Dylan,
Second Layer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
a-ha,
Supertramp,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nik Kershaw,
Dawn Penn,
Skriet,
Ossler,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
These Immortal Souls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry's Kids,
The Move,
The Last Poets,
The Cure,
Eurythmics,
Pussy Galore,
Animal Collective,
Arcadia,
Bobby Womack,
Radio Birdman,
Don Cherry,
The Motions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mars,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Trumans Water,
The Birthday Party,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.