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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Khruangbin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Guru Guru,
The Fortunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Zero Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Camberwell Now,
The Monks,
Anakelly,
Section 25,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bang On A Can,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Ossler,
Arab on Radar,
Slick Rick,
the Slits,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ten City,
Harmonia,
Accadde A,
The Knickerbockers,
The Searchers,
The Sound,
Neu!,
Animal Collective,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
A Certain Ratio,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monochrome Set,
The Stooges,
Q65,
The Beau Brummels,
Bush Tetras,
Roy Ayers,
The Barracudas,
Don Cherry,
Vladislav Delay,
Arcadia,
Sister Nancy,
The Names,
The Angels of Light,
Glenn Branca,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Womack,
Rekid,
Todd Rundgren,
Dark Day,
The Offenders,
The Slits,
Tommy Roe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Black Moon,
Wasted Youth,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aural Exciters,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.