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 Niger 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Eden Ahbez 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Letta Mbulu,
Mark Hollis,
T. Rex,
Bush Tetras,
Loose Ends,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Model 500,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
Derrick Morgan,
Alphaville,
Joyce Sims,
A Certain Ratio,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Reed,
Q and Not U,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Al Stewart,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gun Club,
Rod Modell,
Slave,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moss Icon,
Cybotron,
Unrelated Segments,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
Eric Dolphy,
Panda Bear,
Masters at Work,
The Smiths,
Thee Headcoats,
Stockholm Monsters,
MDC,
Outsiders,
Young Marble Giants,
The Human League,
The Slackers,
Tim Buckley,
Cheater Slicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Heaven 17,
DNA,
Quando Quango,
Crooked Eye,
X-102,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.