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 Namibia and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Rapeman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monks,
World's Most,
Motorama,
The Fortunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
The Five Americans,
Flipper,
Surgeon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ituana,
Ornette Coleman,
Skriet,
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arthur Verocai,
Cal Tjader,
Subhumans,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Womack,
Bronski Beat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers,
Smog,
Organ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Smooth,
PIL,
Eric Dolphy,
Eve St. Jones,
Derrick Morgan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Pantaleimon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Essential Logic,
This Heat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
F. McDonald,
The Smoke,
Monks,
The Victims,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Von Mondo,
The Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter and Kerry,
Cluster,
Magma,
Section 25,
La Düsseldorf,
JFA,
Rakim,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.