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 Burkina and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Girls At Our Best! to the techno 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Smog,
The Walker Brothers,
Skriet,
These Immortal Souls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rites of Spring,
Lower 48,
Ten City,
Sam Rivers,
Accadde A,
Crime,
The Standells,
Loose Ends,
Marshall Jefferson,
The United States of America,
Hardrive,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Idris Muhammad,
48th St. Collective,
Brothers Johnson,
Eden Ahbez,
Isaac Hayes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Starr,
Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Blues Magoos,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radio Birdman,
The Modern Lovers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Franke,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gories,
Roxy Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
KRS-One,
Deakin,
The Mojo Men,
Eric Copeland,
the Slits,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ludus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Black Dice,
Average White Band,
Amon Düül,
Brick,
Derrick May,
Supertramp,
Lalann,
Saccharine Trust,
Theoretical Girls,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.