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 Romania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crooked Eye to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Angry Samoans,
Nirvana,
Jimmy McGriff,
Henry Cow,
Trumans Water,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Moody Blues,
Junior Murvin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Leaves,
The Last Poets,
The Red Krayola,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Funky Four + One,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oblivians,
Y Pants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Charles Mingus,
DNA,
Howard Jones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skaos,
Steve Hackett,
Sun City Girls,
The Sonics,
Pantytec,
The Fuzztones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Absolute Body Control,
Deadbeat,
Derrick May,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sarah Menescal,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Nick Fraelich,
The Skatalites,
Wings,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Holt,
Parry Music,
Pierre Henry,
David Bowie,
John Foxx,
The Toasters,
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
Quando Quango,
Roxy Music,
Altered Images,
Ludus,
Oneida,
Prince Buster,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.