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 Djibouti and from New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare 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 Fania All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
DJ Style,
MDC,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare,
T.S.O.L.,
Funkadelic,
Jawbox,
Man Parrish,
Howard Jones,
Jandek,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Byrd,
the Germs,
Reuben Wilson,
Soft Machine,
Pagans,
Tres Demented,
The New Christs,
Suburban Knight,
The Young Rascals,
Frankie Knuckles,
a-ha,
Gang Gang Dance,
Das Ding,
Deepchord,
Stereo Dub,
Cybotron,
Bang On A Can,
The Moody Blues,
Hot Snakes,
Gang of Four,
Charles Mingus,
Rekid,
Icehouse,
The Raincoats,
MC5,
Wire,
Blancmange,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Near,
The Motions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric Dolphy,
The Toasters,
Buzzcocks,
Ken Boothe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arcadia,
Porter Ricks,
Colin Newman,
The Grass Roots,
The Divine Comedy,
Brass Construction,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.