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 Moldova and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Kinks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Rekid,
Althea and Donna,
Amazonics,
The Standells,
Drexciya,
Pole,
La Düsseldorf,
AZ,
Cybotron,
Arthur Verocai,
the Bar-Kays,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Almond,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
The Smoke,
Eve St. Jones,
Japan,
Fluxion,
Kayak,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Warren Ellis,
This Heat,
Thee Headcoats,
Ten City,
Colin Newman,
Massinfluence,
World's Most,
Darondo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Derrick May,
The Black Dice,
Joyce Sims,
The Names,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pussy Galore,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fall,
Q65,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wally Richardson,
OOIOO,
Barrington Levy,
Ken Boothe,
Surgeon,
Eden Ahbez,
Sällskapet,
Intrusion,
Scion,
Erasure,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hoover,
Sight & Sound,
the Sonics,
Organ,
U.S. Maple,
T. Rex,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.