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 Japan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scott Walker to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soft Machine,
Tomorrow,
the Normal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Star Department,
Pierre Henry,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Mills,
Marine Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Subhumans,
Brand Nubian,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Steve Hackett,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
The Real Kids,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Howard Jones,
The Slits,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marmalade,
Pantytec,
Mr. Review,
The J.B.'s,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New Order,
Porter Ricks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kool Moe Dee,
Animal Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Rosa Yemen,
Roxette,
Trumans Water,
Henry Cow,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bill Near,
Bush Tetras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cramps,
Rapeman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cluster,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
E-Dancer,
Pylon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Derrick Morgan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Organ,
Sällskapet,
Inner City,
Tres Demented,
DJ Style,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.