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 Mozambique and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the techno 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
The Evens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rites of Spring,
Little Man,
The Walker Brothers,
Fat Boys,
The Cowsills,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sex Pistols,
U.S. Maple,
The Cure,
Maurizio,
The Selecter,
Rod Modell,
Arab on Radar,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mars,
The Star Department,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Porter Ricks,
Popol Vuh,
Intrusion,
Banda Bassotti,
Bill Wells,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smoke,
Royal Trux,
Urselle,
Arcadia,
Hardrive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Lynne,
F. McDonald,
Blossom Toes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rosa Yemen,
Chris & Cosey,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Neon Judgement,
Althea and Donna,
Fugazi,
Moebius,
Yellowson,
The Fall,
Make Up,
Marine Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Bang On A Can,
Aural Exciters,
Flipper,
Saccharine Trust,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.