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 Equatorial Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Reagan Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Sight & Sound,
John Cale,
Kurtis Blow,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Tremeloes,
The New Christs,
The Blackbyrds,
Grauzone,
Cecil Taylor,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Saccharine Trust,
the Fania All-Stars,
Outsiders,
Duran Duran,
Marmalade,
Sound Behaviour,
Masters at Work,
Severed Heads,
Albert Ayler,
Amon Düül,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Reagan Youth,
the Human League,
Tom Boy,
Sun Ra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Style,
The Skatalites,
The Smiths,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Aswad,
Easy Going,
Peter and Kerry,
DNA,
The Cramps,
D'Angelo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Q and Not U,
X-102,
Second Layer,
Sällskapet,
Pantytec,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gories,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Halsall,
Graham Central Station,
The Pop Group,
Harry Pussy,
Deakin,
Radio Birdman,
Pagans,
The Searchers,
Hashim,
Agitation Free,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
T. Rex,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.