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 Zambia and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Big Daddy Kane to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Scott Walker,
Crooked Eye,
Bob Dylan,
New York Dolls,
Ludus,
Shoche,
Quando Quango,
Matthew Halsall,
June Days,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kaleidoscope,
Simply Red,
Pagans,
John Lydon,
Skaos,
Black Sheep,
Royal Trux,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Almond,
Grey Daturas,
Talk Talk,
Patti Smith,
MDC,
The Selecter,
The Electric Prunes,
Rosa Yemen,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Zeros,
Tears for Fears,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Anakelly,
The Pretty Things,
Slave,
Camberwell Now,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Radio Birdman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Coltrane,
K-Klass,
Dawn Penn,
Don Cherry,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cameo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yazoo,
New Order,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ken Boothe,
T. Rex,
The Cowsills,
Swans,
Lou Christie,
Davy DMX,
Motorama,
The Dead C,
Bobby Womack,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.