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 Vanuatu and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Michael McDonald 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 Robert Hood to the dance 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The New Christs,
Moebius,
Adolescents,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reuben Wilson,
Fluxion,
The Fortunes,
Babytalk,
Lower 48,
Barry Ungar,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soul II Soul,
Second Layer,
Avey Tare,
Grauzone,
Crash Course in Science,
Radio Birdman,
Kayak,
Little Man,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Toni Rubio,
The Count Five,
Gong,
Minny Pops,
Mr. Review,
Howard Jones,
Suburban Knight,
Skarface,
Crooked Eye,
Moby Grape,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Shuggie Otis,
Rod Modell,
The Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Bluetip,
Harry Pussy,
Livin' Joy,
Deadbeat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Blues Magoos,
Niagra,
Goldenarms,
Alison Limerick,
Half Japanese,
The Residents,
the Bar-Kays,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yellowson,
Depeche Mode,
Tim Buckley,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
Bad Manners,
Ice-T,
Wolf Eyes,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.