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 Samoa and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba 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 Spandau Ballet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Lynne,
Pere Ubu,
The Residents,
The Mojo Men,
The Moody Blues,
Ponytail,
Cheater Slicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Babytalk,
Amon Düül II,
Gang of Four,
Agitation Free,
Zero Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
H. Thieme,
Second Layer,
Scan 7,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hasil Adkins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Trojans,
Iggy Pop,
Los Fastidios,
Essential Logic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mark Hollis,
John Holt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Leonard Cohen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Qualms,
Goldenarms,
The Five Americans,
Main Source,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Dead C,
Vladislav Delay,
Negative Approach,
KRS-One,
Alphaville,
Joey Negro,
The Slits,
Brass Construction,
Bootsy Collins,
Rapeman,
UT,
Absolute Body Control,
Harmonia,
The Barracudas,
Colin Newman,
The Kinks,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scientists,
The Grass Roots,
Monolake,
Susan Cadogan,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.