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 Mozambique and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barrington Levy to the rap 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Zeros,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Infiniti,
The Stooges,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Charles Mingus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cure,
the Human League,
Moss Icon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radio Birdman,
La Düsseldorf,
The New Christs,
Warsaw,
Joe Smooth,
The Gladiators,
The Tremeloes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Josef K,
The Saints,
The Doobie Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Nico,
L. Decosne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boredoms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Easy Going,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pretty Things,
Aloha Tigers,
Brass Construction,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
The Moleskins,
Pylon,
the Swans,
Qualms,
Sugar Minott,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Misunderstood,
Hasil Adkins,
Terry Callier,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Christie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suburban Knight,
Isaac Hayes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ten City,
The United States of America,
Ultravox,
Inner City,
H. Thieme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warren Ellis,
Talk Talk,
Section 25,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.