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 Italy and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 The Victims to the crunk 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Severed Heads,
Animal Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris Corsano,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Smog,
Sam Rivers,
Chrome,
Roxette,
the Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boredoms,
Essential Logic,
Tres Demented,
the Fania All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
Blancmange,
Basic Channel,
Suicide,
The Sonics,
Audionom,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ken Boothe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hoover,
Pere Ubu,
Television,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Organ,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Laurel Aitken,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Move,
The Smoke,
The Evens,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Alphaville,
Kaleidoscope,
The Velvet Underground,
AZ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Accadde A,
Thompson Twins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
Peter and Kerry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Techniques,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Toasters,
The Invisible,
Deadbeat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.