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 Botswana and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Monks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Faust,
the Association,
Yellowson,
Sugar Minott,
Rhythm & Sound,
Accadde A,
John Lydon,
Pussy Galore,
Arthur Verocai,
Leonard Cohen,
The Blackbyrds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronnie Foster,
Sixth Finger,
Bill Near,
The Real Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
Wally Richardson,
Talk Talk,
Bill Wells,
Spandau Ballet,
Urselle,
The Seeds,
Piero Umiliani,
Intrusion,
The Trojans,
B.T. Express,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Pop Group,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Index,
Nirvana,
Ornette Coleman,
Skarface,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Danielle Patucci,
Gong,
X-102,
Quantec,
Kevin Saunderson,
Heaven 17,
Public Enemy,
The Birthday Party,
Swell Maps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Organ,
Max Romeo,
Underground Resistance,
Joe Smooth,
The Offenders,
Country Teasers,
Wolf Eyes,
Kayak,
The Mojo Men,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
Magazine,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.