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 Haiti and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet 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 the Normal to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Faust,
Sonic Youth,
Hashim,
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funkadelic,
Deadbeat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Khruangbin,
Model 500,
Fat Boys,
Bill Near,
Whodini,
Duran Duran,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick May,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeff Mills,
The Invisible,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swans,
Man Parrish,
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Infiniti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ituana,
The Alarm Clocks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soft Machine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Five Americans,
The Slits,
Brass Construction,
The American Breed,
Don Cherry,
Wire,
Adolescents,
Dual Sessions,
Anakelly,
Sound Behaviour,
Minny Pops,
Bush Tetras,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Deakin,
Todd Terry,
Country Teasers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Metal Thangz,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.