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 Zambia and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Fugs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Alarm Clocks,
World's Most,
Ultimate Spinach,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Saints,
Susan Cadogan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Derrick Morgan,
The United States of America,
Mark Hollis,
Bill Wells,
Shuggie Otis,
Sam Rivers,
John Coltrane,
Dual Sessions,
Iggy Pop,
Jandek,
Judy Mowatt,
Colin Newman,
L. Decosne,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pop Group,
Don Cherry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minor Threat,
One Last Wish,
Eve St. Jones,
Bluetip,
B.T. Express,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Throbbing Gristle,
U.S. Maple,
Carl Craig,
Cymande,
Au Pairs,
Cluster,
Altered Images,
Eden Ahbez,
Mr. Review,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Infiniti,
Magma,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
Minny Pops,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
Hot Snakes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Funky Four + One,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.