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 Cape Verde and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Peter & Gordon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lower 48,
Connie Case,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
T. Rex,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
Barry Ungar,
The Music Machine,
Faraquet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yaz,
Joensuu 1685,
Outsiders,
Can,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skriet,
Don Cherry,
Juan Atkins,
Echospace,
Marc Almond,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mummies,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gap Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Leonard Cohen,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
This Heat,
Subhumans,
the Human League,
Wolf Eyes,
The United States of America,
Gang Starr,
New York Dolls,
Roxette,
Banda Bassotti,
Barbara Tucker,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deepchord,
Drexciya,
One Last Wish,
Freddie Wadling,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Idris Muhammad,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nick Fraelich,
The Index,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rekid,
Radio Birdman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mandrill,
Grey Daturas,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.