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 Venezuela and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Stetsasonic to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Prince Buster,
Dennis Brown,
Ultravox,
Josef K,
Little Man,
The Techniques,
Nation of Ulysses,
Q65,
Warren Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Yazoo,
CMW,
Don Cherry,
Blancmange,
Wolf Eyes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Wyatt,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
The Blackbyrds,
Bob Dylan,
Monks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Prunes,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Byrd,
Crash Course in Science,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Sherman,
Index,
Public Enemy,
OOIOO,
Masters at Work,
Bill Wells,
Pierre Henry,
Oblivians,
Minny Pops,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pole,
Cal Tjader,
Scott Walker,
The J.B.'s,
Reagan Youth,
The Leaves,
Kerri Chandler,
Dave Gahan,
The Angels of Light,
Barry Ungar,
The Sonics,
Deakin,
Hasil Adkins,
Severed Heads,
Lindisfarne,
E-Dancer,
David Axelrod,
Delon & Dalcan,
Theoretical Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.