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 Armenia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ 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 Searchers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers,
Depeche Mode,
Aswad,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Zapp,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
The Move,
Mars,
Qualms,
Scion,
The Gories,
Josef K,
Marmalade,
The Count Five,
Brass Construction,
Robert Wyatt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pylon,
AZ,
John Lydon,
Cybotron,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David Bowie,
Matthew Halsall,
Bluetip,
Bronski Beat,
Smog,
These Immortal Souls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
Robert Hood,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Hashim,
Scan 7,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Outsiders,
Bob Dylan,
Cluster,
Suburban Knight,
Flash Fearless,
Harry Pussy,
Unrelated Segments,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Make Up,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jeru the Damaja,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.