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 Swaziland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
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 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
X-Ray Spex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mojo Men,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Visage,
Juan Atkins,
48th St. Collective,
DJ Sneak,
10cc,
The Blackbyrds,
Livin' Joy,
Erasure,
Jandek,
Fat Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Crash Course in Science,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T.S.O.L.,
Neil Young,
Pantaleimon,
Arcadia,
June of 44,
the Slits,
Deakin,
Simply Red,
Alphaville,
Tomorrow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Minny Pops,
The Cowsills,
Howard Jones,
Marmalade,
Infiniti,
James White and The Blacks,
Bauhaus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aural Exciters,
Outsiders,
Ornette Coleman,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Scan 7,
Glenn Branca,
Clear Light,
Ken Boothe,
Severed Heads,
The Pretty Things,
Quando Quango,
Jacob Miller,
Fluxion,
Reagan Youth,
T. Rex,
The Misunderstood,
Bill Near,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
R.M.O.,
Bob Dylan,
The American Breed,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.