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 Singapore and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Khruangbin to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
John Lydon,
Arthur Verocai,
FM Einheit,
Bill Wells,
The Velvet Underground,
Joe Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Star Department,
Mars,
Main Source,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Leaves,
The American Breed,
The Moody Blues,
The Searchers,
Popol Vuh,
New York Dolls,
Essential Logic,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Toasters,
Alison Limerick,
UT,
Porter Ricks,
Fear,
Basic Channel,
The Cowsills,
Warsaw,
The Human League,
The Slackers,
Pantaleimon,
Soul II Soul,
The Knickerbockers,
The Misunderstood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Green,
Panda Bear,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barrington Levy,
Sugar Minott,
The Electric Prunes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül II,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dawn Penn,
Das Ding,
H. Thieme,
The Red Krayola,
Colin Newman,
The Music Machine,
Nas,
Tim Buckley,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gichy Dan,
Slick Rick,
Brothers Johnson,
Ronan,
Derrick Morgan,
Groovy Waters,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.