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 Korea North 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 The Litter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Dennis Brown,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Flag,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Infiniti,
Animal Collective,
Barrington Levy,
Bang On A Can,
Chrome,
Malaria!,
Junior Murvin,
The Angels of Light,
The Gladiators,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arab on Radar,
Mandrill,
Khruangbin,
Janne Schatter,
AZ,
Scott Walker,
Dave Gahan,
The Trojans,
Jerry's Kids,
Kevin Saunderson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Massinfluence,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Al Stewart,
Camberwell Now,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Graham Central Station,
Nik Kershaw,
Mission of Burma,
Yusef Lateef,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Public Image Ltd.,
D'Angelo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harmonia,
Josef K,
Anakelly,
Yellowson,
Trumans Water,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Warren Ellis,
Hasil Adkins,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.