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 Gabon and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Severed Heads to the rock 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Danielle Patucci,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
Colin Newman,
The Fortunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fugs,
Television,
The Gun Club,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Leaves,
Kaleidoscope,
Masters at Work,
Eric B and Rakim,
Max Romeo,
The Blackbyrds,
Make Up,
Buzzcocks,
Wally Richardson,
Josef K,
Icehouse,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Teasers,
Cal Tjader,
John Foxx,
DJ Sneak,
Quadrant,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barrington Levy,
LL Cool J,
The Skatalites,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
Massinfluence,
Sun City Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Index,
Skaos,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Knickerbockers,
the Swans,
Alison Limerick,
The Fall,
Nils Olav,
Dawn Penn,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
John Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
Deadbeat,
Rotary Connection,
Amon Düül II,
Gichy Dan,
Main Source,
Subhumans,
Tim Buckley,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.