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 Ivory Coast and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Cecil Taylor to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Gang Starr,
Derrick May,
The Raincoats,
Kurtis Blow,
Goldenarms,
Swell Maps,
Severed Heads,
Panda Bear,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantytec,
Aswad,
Q and Not U,
Qualms,
Heaven 17,
Animal Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Henry Cow,
Jeff Lynne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Janne Schatter,
Max Romeo,
Siglo XX,
The Residents,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tommy Roe,
The J.B.'s,
The Tremeloes,
ABC,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Donald Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Bauhaus,
Amazonics,
The Sonics,
Fat Boys,
MDC,
Archie Shepp,
The Gun Club,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spandau Ballet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Lydon,
L. Decosne,
Sight & Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
New Order,
The Wake,
Amon Düül II,
Sugar Minott,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eurythmics,
The Neon Judgement,
Faust,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.