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 Turkey and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Basic Channel to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
The Young Rascals,
Anthony Braxton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dave Clark Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Procol Harum,
Pantytec,
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
The J.B.'s,
Todd Rundgren,
Wally Richardson,
The Fuzztones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Jacob Miller,
Silicon Teens,
OOIOO,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
cv313,
The Blues Magoos,
The Buckinghams,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Royal Trux,
The Cure,
MDC,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Teasers,
Grey Daturas,
Dave Gahan,
Lalann,
Aloha Tigers,
JFA,
Carl Craig,
Moebius,
Supertramp,
The Residents,
The Gun Club,
LL Cool J,
The Motions,
The Saints,
The Stooges,
Jacques Brel,
John Lydon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Section 25,
Sex Pistols,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
Radio Birdman,
The Gap Band,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.