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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Nirvana,
The Velvet Underground,
The Smiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Khruangbin,
Grey Daturas,
The Trojans,
Fear,
This Heat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cure,
Ponytail,
X-102,
The Knickerbockers,
Aswad,
Make Up,
Slave,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Bananas,
Roger Hodgson,
Blancmange,
T. Rex,
Scientists,
Nils Olav,
10cc,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Japan,
Lindisfarne,
L. Decosne,
Shuggie Otis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tommy Roe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Searchers,
Hasil Adkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crooked Eye,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rhythm & Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Darondo,
The Grass Roots,
Quadrant,
Ten City,
Desert Stars,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.