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 Russia and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ 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 New Christs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
CMW,
The Gories,
Loose Ends,
Neu!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eden Ahbez,
The Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Don Cherry,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Model 500,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
Sex Pistols,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gong,
Harmonia,
Bill Wells,
John Foxx,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
The Associates,
KRS-One,
Mad Mike,
The Fall,
The American Breed,
Grauzone,
Yaz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus,
Sight & Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Black Bananas,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nirvana,
The Standells,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Juan Atkins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABBA,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
Sun City Girls,
Pantaleimon,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Rosa Yemen,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blake Baxter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bauhaus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Interpol,
The Tremeloes,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.