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 South Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
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 güiro 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 Nik Kershaw to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Isaac Hayes,
Don Cherry,
Underground Resistance,
Newcleus,
Royal Trux,
Crime,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Red Krayola,
The Associates,
Hoover,
L. Decosne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Skatalites,
Jandek,
Nick Fraelich,
Erykah Badu,
The Kinks,
T. Rex,
Althea and Donna,
Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
The Knickerbockers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Peter & Gordon,
The Martian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Index,
Stereo Dub,
the Sonics,
Al Stewart,
Arab on Radar,
The Names,
Archie Shepp,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Matthew Halsall,
Gong,
The Residents,
The Smiths,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Half Japanese,
The Saints,
Suicide,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
Mission of Burma,
the Human League,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry's Kids,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
The Cowsills,
The Pop Group,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.