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 Zimbabwe and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Donald Fagen 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 Crispy Ambulance to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Rakim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Foxx,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Hood,
The Victims,
Mo-Dettes,
Little Man,
Mandrill,
Iggy Pop,
Roger Hodgson,
Don Cherry,
Outsiders,
Marine Girls,
The Gladiators,
The New Christs,
Gang Gang Dance,
a-ha,
Crash Course in Science,
The Residents,
Suburban Knight,
Accadde A,
Minutemen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cheater Slicks,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Saccharine Trust,
The Motions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arthur Verocai,
New York Dolls,
Juan Atkins,
Dawn Penn,
Mantronix,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Toasters,
E-Dancer,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Brick,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roy Ayers,
The Misunderstood,
Ponytail,
Delta 5,
DJ Style,
Half Japanese,
Bad Manners,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Golliwogs,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.