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 Malawi and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Marc Almond,
Intrusion,
Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
Kenny Larkin,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
the Soft Cell,
Eli Mardock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lucky Dragons,
Mr. Review,
Howard Jones,
The Busters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ronnie Foster,
Nirvana,
Boredoms,
48th St. Collective,
Rotary Connection,
Ohio Players,
Rites of Spring,
Motorama,
Unwound,
Crooked Eye,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Womack,
Tommy Roe,
Byron Stingily,
Excepter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Vogues,
Animal Collective,
Michelle Simonal,
Visage,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronan,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
The American Breed,
Sam Rivers,
Harpers Bizarre,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bluetip,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Au Pairs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Frankie Knuckles,
Inner City,
Whodini,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.