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 Uganda and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 B.T. Express to the electroclash 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
The Selecter,
Toni Rubio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The United States of America,
Mars,
The Smoke,
Sandy B,
The Music Machine,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bluetip,
Erasure,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Buzzcocks,
Amon Düül II,
The Index,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
the Human League,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang On A Can,
Thee Headcoats,
Stereo Dub,
Black Moon,
Sällskapet,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Sam Rivers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
Minutemen,
48th St. Collective,
Aloha Tigers,
Arthur Verocai,
Nas,
New Age Steppers,
Johnny Clarke,
Yazoo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Country Teasers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Anakelly,
The New Christs,
Bootsy Collins,
Deepchord,
Lower 48,
The Pop Group,
B.T. Express,
AZ,
The Fortunes,
Michelle Simonal,
the Bar-Kays,
10cc,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxy Music,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.