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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Slits to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Todd Rundgren,
Colin Newman,
Siglo XX,
Vladislav Delay,
The New Christs,
Vainqueur,
Youth Brigade,
Kaleidoscope,
the Soft Cell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nils Olav,
Ituana,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Little Man,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
Quantec,
The Count Five,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Public Image Ltd.,
Howard Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
Crime,
Scott Walker,
World's Most,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Slave,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Starr,
The Music Machine,
Ohio Players,
Carl Craig,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Yaz,
The Standells,
Joyce Sims,
The American Breed,
Pierre Henry,
a-ha,
Thee Headcoats,
The Golliwogs,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Depeche Mode,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gichy Dan,
Lyres,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grey Daturas,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Walker Brothers,
Icehouse,
Barry Ungar,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.