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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Joyce Sims,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
Peter and Kerry,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roger Hodgson,
Sight & Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Slave,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Duran Duran,
Motorama,
H. Thieme,
Brothers Johnson,
Cluster,
Grey Daturas,
The Fire Engines,
Flash Fearless,
The Dead C,
Roy Ayers,
Fugazi,
Severed Heads,
The Selecter,
Sandy B,
Prince Buster,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABBA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
D'Angelo,
Model 500,
Moebius,
cv313,
Can,
Robert Wyatt,
The Associates,
Crash Course in Science,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gong,
Wings,
The Gap Band,
The Five Americans,
Chris & Cosey,
Von Mondo,
Lou Christie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skriet,
The Skatalites,
Sarah Menescal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Japan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dual Sessions,
Morten Harket,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heaven 17,
Lindisfarne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.