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 Peru and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Byron Stingily to the dance 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Fad Gadget,
Sexual Harrassment,
New York Dolls,
Mark Hollis,
Darondo,
Morten Harket,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scion,
Funky Four + One,
Ultra Naté,
The Five Americans,
Half Japanese,
Henry Cow,
Zero Boys,
the Sonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Foxx,
Johnny Clarke,
Matthew Bourne,
DNA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gabor Szabo,
The Saints,
The Misunderstood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arcadia,
A Certain Ratio,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Reed,
Letta Mbulu,
The Slits,
The Motions,
Sun City Girls,
The Wake,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
Tres Demented,
Crime,
Amon Düül,
DJ Style,
Goldenarms,
Warsaw,
Scrapy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radio Birdman,
Marine Girls,
Khruangbin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Icehouse,
The Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
The Pop Group,
Ultimate Spinach,
EPMD,
Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ultravox,
ABC,
The Move,
Chrome,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.