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 Equatorial Guinea and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Fuzztones to the punk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mars,
Quadrant,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alice Coltrane,
Althea and Donna,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Ornette Coleman,
Letta Mbulu,
Pole,
Buzzcocks,
Mantronix,
The Cramps,
Rosa Yemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scratch Acid,
Erykah Badu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Todd Terry,
Quantec,
Easy Going,
David Axelrod,
Archie Shepp,
Cluster,
Trumans Water,
Thompson Twins,
Essential Logic,
Hashim,
The Invisible,
DNA,
John Foxx,
The Blackbyrds,
John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Loose Ends,
Byron Stingily,
T. Rex,
Bob Dylan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Guru Guru,
Henry Cow,
Blancmange,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gap Band,
New Age Steppers,
Fad Gadget,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scion,
Supertramp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.