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 Tuvalu and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar 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 DJ Sneak to the grime 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Tears for Fears,
Unwound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nirvana,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Trumans Water,
Au Pairs,
Fad Gadget,
Moebius,
Ken Boothe,
Depeche Mode,
John Cale,
The Leaves,
The Selecter,
June of 44,
Susan Cadogan,
T.S.O.L.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Reuben Wilson,
Skaos,
Harmonia,
Prince Buster,
Crash Course in Science,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Clarke,
the Normal,
Theoretical Girls,
The Red Krayola,
The Mummies,
Black Pus,
Unrelated Segments,
Camberwell Now,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sandy B,
The Cramps,
The Neon Judgement,
Eric Dolphy,
PIL,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tim Buckley,
The Invisible,
Procol Harum,
The Gories,
Skarface,
Popol Vuh,
Newcleus,
The Zeros,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gabor Szabo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joyce Sims,
Roger Hodgson,
Piero Umiliani,
Donald Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Negative Approach,
Qualms,
Gang of Four,
Mr. Review,
Sound Behaviour,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.