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 Mexico and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Sheep to the grime 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Nas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Accadde A,
Darondo,
Suicide,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang On A Can,
The Dirtbombs,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Avey Tare,
Malaria!,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
KRS-One,
The Black Dice,
Letta Mbulu,
OOIOO,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boredoms,
Nirvana,
The Fugs,
Moss Icon,
K-Klass,
Livin' Joy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Severed Heads,
Donny Hathaway,
Inner City,
Excepter,
Boz Scaggs,
The Beau Brummels,
The Seeds,
EPMD,
David Bowie,
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
Loose Ends,
Arcadia,
X-101,
Black Sheep,
Pantaleimon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monochrome Set,
Wally Richardson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deadbeat,
A Certain Ratio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Motorama,
Visage,
Ten City,
Barbara Tucker,
the Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun,
Flash Fearless,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.