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 Gambia and from New York.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Gong,
Inner City,
Outsiders,
T. Rex,
Hasil Adkins,
Wally Richardson,
Ronnie Foster,
Zero Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Leaves,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Prunes,
Davy DMX,
Dual Sessions,
James White and The Blacks,
The Real Kids,
The Searchers,
The Names,
Joensuu 1685,
Average White Band,
June Days,
The Busters,
Suicide,
Hardrive,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scott Walker,
The Doors,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dark Day,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gastr Del Sol,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeff Lynne,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare,
New Age Steppers,
Hot Snakes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
Marine Girls,
Pylon,
Al Stewart,
Jerry's Kids,
Nirvana,
Slick Rick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Patti Smith,
ABC,
Ituana,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Quando Quango,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Qualms,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.