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 Jordan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Kenny Larkin,
Lou Christie,
Barrington Levy,
Moby Grape,
Massinfluence,
Second Layer,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
Guru Guru,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Toasters,
Urselle,
Stiv Bators,
Crime,
Dave Gahan,
The Smoke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sister Nancy,
X-Ray Spex,
The Kinks,
Clear Light,
Wings,
Section 25,
Joyce Sims,
Skarface,
The Monochrome Set,
The Searchers,
Skriet,
Piero Umiliani,
Toni Rubio,
Absolute Body Control,
Underground Resistance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Anakelly,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mo-Dettes,
Nick Fraelich,
Sam Rivers,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Skatalites,
Pussy Galore,
Yaz,
10cc,
Peter and Kerry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Buzzcocks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
D'Angelo,
Motorama,
Slick Rick,
Minny Pops,
Theoretical Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Von Mondo,
Ken Boothe,
The Golliwogs,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.