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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sam Rivers to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Darondo,
Graham Central Station,
Shoche,
Gang Starr,
The Stooges,
Reuben Wilson,
Silicon Teens,
Cheater Slicks,
Magazine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fluxion,
The Pretty Things,
Porter Ricks,
Junior Murvin,
The American Breed,
The Dirtbombs,
The Techniques,
Derrick May,
Roxy Music,
The Five Americans,
Lightning Bolt,
Erasure,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rufus Thomas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grandmaster Flash,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Lindisfarne,
Circle Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Womack,
Throbbing Gristle,
Max Romeo,
Ken Boothe,
Thee Headcoats,
The United States of America,
Chrome,
Smog,
Lou Reed,
Henry Cow,
JFA,
U.S. Maple,
Warren Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Tom Boy,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott Heron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Scientists,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.