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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Colin Newman to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-Ray Spex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Qualms,
Procol Harum,
The Trojans,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ken Boothe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tim Buckley,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
Schoolly D,
The Angels of Light,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slackers,
Nick Fraelich,
Danielle Patucci,
Eve St. Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
the Germs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David Axelrod,
The Mummies,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Glenn Branca,
Silicon Teens,
Eden Ahbez,
Dorothy Ashby,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Age Steppers,
Rakim,
Monks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Unwound,
Janne Schatter,
The Residents,
Gregory Isaacs,
Slick Rick,
Agitation Free,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Starr,
Scrapy,
Talk Talk,
the Normal,
Chris & Cosey,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fall,
Vladislav Delay,
The Index,
Hashim,
Swell Maps,
L. Decosne,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Erykah Badu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Reed,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.