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 Lebanon and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Lou Reed 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 Connie Case to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lakeside,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
Agitation Free,
Sixth Finger,
AZ,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
The Kinks,
Scrapy,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
Liliput,
Cal Tjader,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Invisible,
The Cramps,
Ken Boothe,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Sound,
Nils Olav,
the Fania All-Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
The Selecter,
Joyce Sims,
Panda Bear,
Easy Going,
Guru Guru,
The Toasters,
Soft Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Victims,
a-ha,
R.M.O.,
Prince Buster,
China Crisis,
Don Cherry,
Swell Maps,
Smog,
Joy Division,
Crime,
Scion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Cale,
Traffic Nightmare,
Newcleus,
Basic Channel,
The J.B.'s,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Organ,
Eddi Front,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalann,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.